


i’m afraid of americans

by rainbowsedge (orphan_account)



Series: bottom zayn [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Harry Styles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Books, Bottom Zayn Malik, Charlie is in this fic do not fear we love our Chiall, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Fluff, Happy Ending, Harry’s really smooth, Heavy Angst, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Zayn Malik, Pack Bonding, Slow Burn, Smut, Top Harry Styles, Wealthy Aristocrats, Zayn’s really the opposite, multiple kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rainbowsedge
Summary: “It’s this American candy Harry had me try one a few weeks ago. It’s funny, if we were in America, we’d be in a fraternity and this cup would be a red “Solo” cup, and I’d be fucking someone on the top floor in a few minutes. Or having a seizure because of all the shit I just dropped.” Zayn giggled, and Louis snatched the cup away and set it on the coffee table.orA story about class, privilege, the struggles of becoming marrying age, and above all else, I cannot stress this enough—it is about boundless and immeasurable love. The kind that says fuck all about who deserves it.NO LONGER UPDATING





	1. richard wright was once a communist

**Author's Note:**

> **I'm afraid of Americans**  
**I'm afraid of the world**  
**I'm afraid I can't help it**  
**I'm afraid I can't**  
-david bowie, i’m afraid of americans

Hi y’all! This is a re-write of “There Were So Many Sunflowers!” Because I hate that fic! It’s so bad! 

Anyways, this is a story about two people who live in the nice part of town. Enjoy. 

There are many ancient stories about people going on journeys; failing, succeeding, getting beheaded, getting tortured, getting stoned, being drawn and quartered, being enchanted by a talking animal, being cursed by a higher power or deity, conquering an empire, losing to an empire and becoming a slave—you name it. Zayn Malik’s family has done it all. One of the many perks of being part of an esteemed family is that nearly every one of your ancestors were educated and cocky enough to write about themselves. 

Although, it never really made sense to him as to why all of his ancestors did such cretin-like things, one of his personal favorites being how his great great great grandfather contracted syphilis and prescribed himself powdered mercury in his tea. But others ended up being his personal heroes, like Aisha, his great great great great great great grandmother who defied her father and secretly gave herself an education with the help of their castle’s librarian. 

He had never imagined himself to be someone that shared the blood of these people, because often times than not, reading about a historical figure always seemed so displaced. Of course you aren’t related to the Queen, or Genghis Khan, and when you read about it, it doesn’t ever feel like anyone is. He did, however, feel so fortunate that his generational wealth meant that he was one of the richest omegas in the world. 

So was his neighbor, Louis. And Niall, two houses over. And Liam, _ three _ houses over. In fact, all the richest people in London lived on the very same street, and perhaps that was another cretin-like idea that their ancestors came up with; the heaviest concentration of jewels and safe money in the entire country within the same five mile radius. 

Another thing that Zayn had never imagined himself to end up being is a person who’d agreed to an arranged marriage. 

Thing is, this apparently was a thing fated in the stars. The last scandal surrounding the British elite had to do with rumors of inbreeding and how the aristocratic bloodlines have been marinating within each other for the past several centuries. Although this may be true for the Royal Family, Zayn’s mother had personally made it her own crusade to conduct a series of genealogy experiments and historical studies to confirm that there was only a _ minor amount of incest _ that occurred within their family in the 14th century. Thanks, mum. 

So naturally, another thing that mum’s lawyers did was to find a family that had absolutely no relation to the Maliks and set up an arranged date or pair to prove something to the press that they can, in fact, have genetic diversity. Disgusting business, Zayn thought it, but unfortunately, he was picked in the unlucky lottery to go about on a date for the press with a poor sod. 

“He’s American? Why?” 

“Do you know the chances of you even being minutely related to someone of good breeding in England?” Her words nearly made him throw up. “Even if it’s a mere 0.001% blood relation, the press will go into a frenzy. The Styleses are filthy rich and have lived in North America for the last two centuries, don’t you think I chose well? He’s not bad to look at, look, he’s got nice teeth; he’s from Los Angeles.” 

“Mum, if you ever say the word “breeding” again—“ 

“Don’t be so sensitive about it, we’re all animals here, Zayn. Hamsters procreate with their own children—“ 

“MUM!” Zayn shrieked, jumping up and down into the ear with his hands covering his ears. “No, just no. That’s a no. That’s a fat no. Goodbye. Good day.” He left the room, nearly running into one of the housekeepers dusting off the mantle. 

“I’m so disgusted, I’m going to vomit,” Zayn waved his hands around his sister, who was sitting on the stairs cackling. “I’m seriously going to vomit.” The printed picture of his _ suitor _ flew from his hands and danced through the air, and right before it hit the ground did Safaa catch it and tilt it upwards. 

“Woah, he’s not too bad, actually. Don’t you think ‘Malik-Styles’ has a nice ring to it, Zaynie-kins?” 

“Mum should’ve dumped you into the Thames when she had the chance,” He hissed, feeling like something was crawling underneath his skin. 

“Oh, hush, you,” Safaa wisely turned the portrait around, “Do you like what you see, Catherine of Aragon?” 

“Stop, I don’t want to think about Henry’s wives right now.” Zayn pressed the side of his fist to his mouth. 

“He’s handsome, for sure. And he’s your age, an alpha, 6’2”, dowry estimating…1.1 billion dollars—hey Zaynie, how do you convert pounds to dollars?” 

“It shouldn’t matter at that number, Saf, billions is a connotative equalizer in any currency.” 

“You’re wrong. A billion pence is…ten million pounds, you’re right, you’re definitely right.” Safaa raised her eyebrows in realization. “Does this mean you’ll be richer than me, Zaynie? When you marry him?” 

“No one’s marrying anyone!” Zayn screamed to the ceiling. “This isn’t the 18th century, I’m not to be carted off to some lord so that I can give him pups and move forth the bloodline.” 

“Quite right, but it does seem like you’re not going to be given too much of a choice, unless you want to join a convent,” 

“Convents are only for women, Saf.” 

“My point is made.” 

Zayn groaned, “This is a nightmare.” 

“Well, my dear brother, perhaps this is just divine punishment for amounting to nothing at this point in your life—“ 

“You little shit,” 

“_ And _ perhaps this will set forth a new moral honor code that you might abide to in your coming years of cheating the stock market and fattening your trusts with ongoing industrial investments, because that what all us blue bloods do when we don’t deserve our money.” Safaa drew a mustache on the Styles boy’s face with a sharpie just as Zayn threw his slipper at her head. 

“So you’re not even gonna look at him?” 

* * *

“How archaic,” 

“Is that all you have to say, Harry?” Gemma looked more aghast about the situation than he did. “You should be fighting back! You’re not some kind of science experiment.” 

“I’m above this, Gemma dear, we all are. Just let it be. I’ve had to return home anyways, grandma gets antsy when I don’t call,” Harry slapped his book shut, deciding that there was too much noise for him to read. 

Gemma shifted and turned around in her seat. “Should I have a word with mom about this?” 

Harry shrugged, back turned to her. “You can do whatever you’d like, Gem.”

“One of these days, you’ll crack, Hazza, and it won’t be pretty. I’ll have my Nikon out.” Gemma shook her head, she was someone who wore her Loubotins inside, she was not one to be modest about her personal success at winning the lottery of life.

Harry stopped in his tracks. “Gem, it’s harmless, and it’ll make mom happy. Stop being so annoying about it and learn to follow directions for once in your life. After all, I heard he wasn’t bad to look at.” 

“You’re a secret sociopath, you know that? A person can’t be this calm with so many ulterior motives under his belt.” Gemma sighed, turning back around. 

“You’re wrong, Gem. I’m not calm, I’m just not cracking.” Harry laughed in a way that signaled his disbelief, footsteps light and feathery down the hallway. 

* * *

“Love, you’re doing it again, stop it, stop,” Yaser scolded, tapping at Zayn’s hands. “Trisha, look at what he’s doing.” 

“Stop ripping up the paper, Zayn, you’re completely fine and safe.” Trisha told her son, who had been ripping up the picture of the illustrious Styles boy in a nervous fit. This was the second stage of the paper’s life purpose, you see. The first was for Zayn to compulsively fold it and twist it around. 

He felt Yaser rub his head, so he turned to look at him. His dad smiled, head beckoning to the outside of the car. “Well, go on, then. I reckon you have about an hour or two before you have to meet at the hall.” 

Zayn stuffed the pieces of paper into his pocket and shimmied out of the car, excitedly leaping back in to give his father a kiss. 

“Where’s my kiss?” Trisha asked in a half-joking, half-expectant manner. Zayn smiled sarcastically at her before spinning around and running to the university library. 

Books. If there was anything that didn’t succeed in completely boring or making him incapacitated, it’d be his ability to read books. Ever since he was a child, he had been studying and reading any book he could get his hands on, and it was almost like he’d disappear for a few hours before returning to life. 

His parents, bless them, were always intellectual aristocrats, which apparently were the worst ones to be, and having donated millions of pounds to this specific university as gratuitous alumni gave Zayn and his sisters the ability to use any of their facilities. Doniya is a violinist, Waliyha is an engineer, Safaa is a dancer, but Zayn? Perhaps his gift was writing, everyone had always told him so. But in fact, he loathed writing, and it was obvious that he would much rather pay someone to write him more books to read. 

Today’s adventure consisted of American Literature, an area of expertise that he had not yet mastered the music of.

His recent project was a book called Native Son by Richard Wright, so per usual, he greeted the librarian receptionist and made a beeline for the literature, past all of the computers and chatting colleagues and _ noise _. 

Another thing, Zayn hated noise. 

There was a special corner that he’s been sitting in for the last five years, loved to the point that it never needed dusting and the curtains never needed to be shut. Zayn loved the sunlight hitting his skin as it illuminated the ink blots on each page, and when he was truly zoned out and lost in another dimension, those few seconds of the sound of pages turning by were the only things reminding him that he was part of the real world. 

Imagine the shattering it caused when he strolled up the path that he could walk through with his eyes closed and saw someone sitting in his corner. Sitting in his corner. With the curtains closed? Preposterous. Zayn ought to send this cretin-like stranger a piece of his mind. 

“Uh,” was all that came out. 

The cretin’s head tilted upwards. “...Hi?” 

Zayn blinked furiously as he thought of a next move, feeling quite adamant in his feelings of dire emergency to get this stranger out of his seat. 

The cretin—man, alpha, was really handsome, and that was also distracting. In an instant, the alpha’s scent wafted through the air and hit him like a million aquarium stones all at once. “Uh,” 

“Sorry,” The man seemed to get it. “Is this your seat?” 

Zayn nodded with his lips pressed tightly together. He’s American. Zayn didn’t know what to think anymore. 

The alpha smiled at him like he had just seen something rare, and when he stood up, it could’ve well knocked Zayn back a few aisles down with that scent he had. Perhaps it smelled rotten. Yes, it smelled rotten. Not like the jasmine and cedar trees that his mind was tricking him into thinking it was. 

“You’re reading Native Son! I was looking for that,” His voice sounded funny, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. “I’m Harry…?” The alpha bent down to peer up at Zayn’s face. The action made Zayn’s heart beat fast and desperate in its chest, as if it wanted to lunge at the guy—Harry and tell him all the pulling but off-putting things Zayn’s noticed about him within the last thirty seconds. 

“‘M Zayn,” He replied after swinging his head to the side, cheeks burning. “You…you read Wright?” God, that sounded dumb. 

Harry threw his head back and laughed, as quietly as he could, nodding his head. “Of course I read Wright! I’m an American sitting in the American Literature section. That’s like asking a British person if they’ve ever read Dickens.” 

“I love Dickens,” Zayn admitted, and Harry smiled even wider. He was a very smiley guy. “Did you…do you want to read it?” He handed the book over, which is something that he has never done in his entire life, and in horror, he watched his own hands betray his traditions, Harry’s hands moving gently to take the book into his. 

“Are you an omega? That’s probably a dumb thing to ask, but back in L.A, almost everyone wears scent blockers so I’m not really sure who smells like what anymore,” Harry chuckled, one eye shutting as he ruffled his own hair in embarrassment. “I’m an alpha.” 

“That’s obvious.” 

“Sorry?” 

Zayn’s eyes fluttered. “You smell like an alpha, I could smell you from six feet away.” 

Harry frowned a little, looking a tad confused as he sniffed his own shirt. “I thought I sprayed a crap ton this morning, though. That’s a bit strange. Well, uh, sorry for taking your seat.” He motioned to the corner behind him, and Zayn just nodded awkwardly. 

He thought he was going to collapse, hardly ever meets new people on his own volition, and to think that he was acting in ways that were unheard of in his character was already distressing on its own. “So, how come you’re in the U.K?” 

Harry seemed a little surprised that Zayn wanted to keep the conversation going. “I’m visiting colleges, you see. I’m planning to earn a doctorate, and you can usually tell the quality of a school by their library.” 

“I’d agree with that. Are you liking it here?” Zayn asked innocently, and there it was again, that look where Harry looked like he’s discovered something rare. “And yeah, I’m an omega. I don’t typically wear scent blockers, it’s a rule I have to live by.” 

“That’s stra—I’ve never heard of that before. May I ask why?” Harry was very polite, and Zayn was ten minutes into his library visit and he was still standing and talking. The sun was about to fall into the earth, for sure. 

Zayn licked his lips and gulped, eyes darting to anywhere but directly into Harry’s pupils. “My family…they see it crude to hide our statuses. In multiple interpretations of the word. Maliks, we call ourselves. I’m Zayn Malik.” 

Harry’s expression shifted smoothly from one of confusion and fascination to one of total realization. “I’m Harry Styles.” 

It still didn’t register in Zayn’s mind what the implications were of exchanging each other’s last names. All he knew, bless his heart, was that Harry’s face was vaguely familiar. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry, but I’m itching to get back to what I was doing,” was that rude? 

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Harry seemed flustered, which Zayn didn’t understand. “Uh, actually, keep this. I’ll feel bad to take this from you. Is there any way I can find another copy?” 

“This library has a lot of their books underneath the ground, see those machines there? They’re large robotic arms that grab your book for you. I’m sure you can find something there.” Zayn offered, and Harry smiled and thanked him, walking away languidly and so fluidly he would have mistaken him for a royal. 

He fingered the edges of Native Son, instinctively (not yet compulsively) trying to smooth out the creases and folds, wondering what just happened and how the logistics must have worked in order for him to have ended up in what just happened. 

He blinked a few more times, just until the jasmine and cedar trees left the air, and he went back to his usual corner. 

He loved to tuck his feet up and rest his books on his knees when he read, so he did so. 

But of course, the designer slacks he was dressed in gave no leeway for whatever was inside their lining, so when he bent his knees, the pieces of paper he was ripping up in the car slipped out and hit the carpeted floor. Littering was a sin, so he scrambled back down to pick them up, and that’s when it hit him, just as he began to fit them back together like puzzle pieces. 

“That’s an eye, two eyes. Well, that’s good, a person should have two eyes. Hair. Hands. Wait.” 

He looked up, and past the computers, chatting colleagues, and rows and rows of archaeology textbooks, a man wearing a long dark coat and smelling of a mystical forest was conversing with the library receptionist. 

“Styles. Fuck,” He slapped his forehead. “I’m a doorknob.” He threw away the trash and left the book on the window sill, speed walking with as much intent he’s ever had whilst walking. “Uh, Harry!” 

“Shhh!” Engineers, professors, and Rachel the Receptionist hissed at him. But all Harry did was turn around. 

“It’s a bit funny,” He said before Zayn could even utter a word. He beckoned to follow him out the doors. “I thought we were supposed to meet at the hall in an hour. What a coincidence that our first impressions were laid right now.” 

“First impressions?” Zayn squeaked, having walked too fast for his comfort. “I’m sorry, I was so rude, I didn’t recognize—“ 

“I was being presumptuous in thinking that you would, it’s my fault. I’m the one who should be sorry.” Harry stopped him in his tracks. “What made you figure it out?” 

Zayn looked down at his fingers, picking at the skin around his nails half-heartedly. “They gave me a headshot that I ripped up, it was in my pocket.” 

Harry snorted, “That sounds about right.” 

“Did they give you a picture of me?” Zayn asked, and Harry nodded. 

“I glimpsed at it,” They continued to stroll down the courtyard side by side. “I didn’t study it, though. That would be creepy.” 

“Ah,” Zayn laughed softly. “Did I, did I muck this up?” 

“‘Muck,’” Harry’s eyes crinkled fondly. “You are very British. And no, you didn’t ‘muck’ anything up. In fact, you’re already much better than I thought you’d be.” 

“We don’t have to get married,” Zayn blurted a little aggressively, as though he was trying to force an answer right into Harry’s mouth. “Uh, we don’t have to do anything at all, y’know?” 

Harry paused, but he seemed to understand. “Yeah, I agree. But let’s just pretend that we haven’t met yet for now.” 

“My mother will throw a fit, she can be very Victorian sometimes. It’s inappropriate for me to be going around having secret little rendezvous with Alphas.” Zayn informed him, and Harry had fun listening. 

“It’s the 21st century! Are you really saying that you have no alpha friends?” Harry teased. “Could we never be friends, then?” 

“I don’t have many friends,” 

“Oh,” 

“Yeah,” Zayn’s hair got in his face, and he frantically shoved it about. Harry tried to pretend like he didn’t notice. “I think you’re a surprise, if you were wondering. Erm, since you said that I’m already much better than you expected. ‘Cause I mean, I wasn’t expecting anything at all—“ 

“I like the way you say that. It sounds really good coming from you. Sorry if that seems like I’m sensationalizing you or…anyways, sorry, please continue.” 

“I wasn’t expecting anything, and if I’m being honest, I think you’ve already surprised me in ways that no one ever has.” 

Harry had no idea what he was going to say to that. He sucked in a sharp inhale, “So, you love books, huh?” 

“Yeah, I’m planning on getting a doctorate in Literature.” Zayn said in a giggle. “Kind of blue-blood of me, huh?” 

Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Nah, just the right amount of blue-blood. How old are you, you seem really young to be going after a PhD.” 

“Same goes for you. I’m 20. I graduated early so that I could finish my bachelor’s degree early.” Zayn was getting a little tired from all this walking, and Harry noticed; he was so good at noticing, and led them to a bench to sit. 

“I’m 20,” Harry said it like it was the most amazing thing in the world. “I graduated high school early too, that’s so weird. I’ve never met anyone who’s practically going the same path as me.” 

“What are you planning to study?” 

“Anthropology,” Harry explained. “I guess we’re both very blue-blood and taking much advantage of our privilege.” 

Zayn giggled at that, and that’s when Harry decided he wanted to keep saying funny things to hear it again and again. 

* * *

“The three books shows a lot about the techniques of perspective that Wright uses, like how Bigger’s point of view is so limiting that even the reader feels the need to shut out the other characters and forget how they are also people,” 

“Because we’re so focused on all the things Bigger does and feels, you’re exactly right.” Harry continued when Zayn faltered, smiling in encouragement. “I think Flight has to be my favorite book, just because of all the emotions it made me circulate through. Sometimes, maybe that’s the only point to books, y’know?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn whispered. “I getcha.” 

People passing by were looking at them weirdly. 

“I’ve never met a British person who was this invested in American Literature, I feel almost flattered, somehow.” Harry joked, and Zayn blushed. “What’s your favorite American book?” 

“It’s called Pachinko.” Zayn stated without a moment of hesitation. “It’s not necessarily an American narrative, but it’s written by an American, and it’s absolutely fantastic. I read it in an hour, it’s over 500 pages; I read it in an hour.” He emphasized, a small part of him feeling proud when Harry looked impressed. 

“I guess that means I’ll have to read it.” 

No one has ever taken Zayn’s opinion this seriously before, and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

“What the hell,” he vocalized, and Harry blinked at him in confusion. “I mean, ugh, sorry, that was so weird—uh, well, it was just—shit. No one ever really talks to me about this stuff, and you just really surprised me just now.” 

Harry blushed, and Zayn noticed. They looked away for a moment, training their eyes on literally anything but each other. Both weren’t exactly smooth and saucy, but neither could deny that they were intrigued. 

Zayn smelled so good, Harry almost couldn’t breathe. 

Like body wash and shampoo, amongst other things. 

He was usually a better poet than this. 

“Hello?” Zayn stretched upwards so that he could be back in Harry’s view. “You blanked for a second there.” 

“Did I?” Harry looked red horrifically red, he was sure, but Zayn didn’t seem to notice or mind. 

“You smell very nice,” Zayn blurted out loud, and Harry’s head snapped back towards him. “Like, jasmines and being forced to camp outside.” 

“I didn’t know ‘being forced to camp outside’ was a scent,” Harry snorted, amused by this tiny, loud but skittish creature. 

“I didn’t know either, ‘till now.” Zayn ended with that, and it went silent again. 

“You smell nice too.” 

“Huh?” Zayn’s head snapped so suddenly he cracked it. 

“May I?” Harry’s hands moved, and Zayn’s head nodded on autopilot. His right hand gently touched the side of his jaw, tilting it, and his head moved towards his neck at an alarming pace. 

Zayn was paralysed, this was the farthest an alpha had ever touched him in his entire life, and maybe it was just him being theatrical, but it felt intimate. Harry’s breath ghosted over the sensitive place in the conjunction of his head and shoulder. “Oranges. Ha.” 

The words were hot on his body, and Zayn whimpered when he felt a small amount of slick make its presence known in his pants. 

Harry pulled back in surprise, and when Zayn finally realized what had happened, his whole body stiffened up and he leaped up. “Erm,” 

Harry coughed and stood up as well, hands flying to his pants to wipe off their clamminess. “Um,” 

“Sorry.” They said in unison, and before anything else could be awkwardly stated, phones rang. 

“Hello?” Zayn’s croaked, cheeks flaming and feeling a bit humiliated. 

“Hello?” Harry was sweating. 

“In the hall?” They both asked, looking over at each other in shock. “Okay, I’ll be there.” 

They hung up, and it was when Zayn decided to go ahead first, walking so quickly it literally just looked like a jog. 

Harry just blinked and watched him go, feeling as though he had just ‘mucked’ everything up. 

* * *

“Jaan, are you okay?” Zayn was in his dad’s lap, clutching his shirt dramatically in his fist and right ear pressed against his chest. “Did something happen?” 

“He’s not talking, goodness,” Trisha bent down to Zayn’s level, wiping his face firmly with her thumbs. “Sweetheart, they’ll be here any minute.” 

“This is too much, Trish, not even as a possibility. We don’t want to send jaan into a panic,” Yaser sighed, pressing his lips to the side of Zayn’s head. “We’re sorry, it’s okay. It’s not serious, and we can work it out.” 

“‘M okay,” 

“What was that?” 

“I’m okay,” Zayn mumbled a little louder, “I swear.” 

“Oh, okay?” Trisha blinked at him, surprised by the answer. “You sure, my love?” 

“Mhm,” Zayn nodded, getting up off his dad’s lap and standing on his own. “‘M nervous, is all.” 

“That’s alright,” Trisha kissed his cheek just as the doors opened. Zayn froze when he heard his father inhale loudly behind him, turning around to see his brow furrowed in concentration. 

“Oh,” Yaser said calmly, looking right at Zayn with a twinge of a smile. “Interesting.” 

“Hello, so nice to meet you, my name is ——— and I represent the Styles family.” An attorney led with his hand, shaking Trisha’s first before Yaser’s. 

“Hi, I’m Harry,” Harry smiled warmly, teeth so bright they screamed riches. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Trisha smiled, so easily impressed, judging by the way she turned her head back and waggled her eyebrows at Zayn. “Thank you for helping us. It’s been quite a shock.” 

“If anyone were to ask me, which no one did, I’d say that my lovely wife has blown this lightyears out of its proportion.” Yaser jokes, resulting in a light slap to the arm. 

“I mean,” Harry tries, “I understand the concern.” 

“You’re too kind,” Yaser pats him on the back. “This is Zayn, but you probably already know that.” 

“Hello,” Harry smiled at Zayn, a hand outstretched. “I’m Harry.” 

“Hi,” Zayn took it gingerly and shook, eyes darting up and down from his gaze. 

“Goodness, you are so quick to quip, aren’t you. Do you really think that shallowly of me? Come over here,” Trisha whispered to Yaser, looking up at him like the fiery little woman she was. “Let me explain.” 

“You see, this worked out for our moms for lots of reasons,” Harry started, trying to grab Zayn’s attention, which, to be fair, was not an easy task. “Our wealth is purely generational, and stems from our English great-godmother, who raised my dad after my grandma passed away. Technically, we are her adopted family, and recently she has proposed an ultimatum in light of her...senior years.” 

“The ultimatum was?” Zayn realized that they were still holding hands, so he quickly let go. 

“I used to spend every single summer here with my god-grandma, really she’s just my grandma, but yeah, it's safe to say I’m her favorite.” 

Zayn giggled, “Oh, nice.” 

“Yeah, but because I haven’t visited enough, she’s threatened to take us all out of the will and cut us off if I don’t find a way to stay in England; close to her. That, and she insisted I have to make a name for myself.” Harry shrugged, “Sounds awful, but there is no better way to achieving all the things you’re ambitious about than marrying a billionaire’s heir.” 

“I understand, money is a very important thing,” Zayn didn’t sound very convincing. Harry looked away and smiled. 

“No, I can tell that you don’t care about money all that much. I don’t either, but it’s mainly the rest of my family I’d do this for.” Harry looked behind him to see Zayn’s parents and his lawyer conversing at the other side of the room, so he turned back to Zayn. “Did your mom really set this all up just because of a rumor that spread that you’re the product of incest?” 

Zayn shrugged, “I don’t understand 90% of her antics. We already disproved it, but once she sets her mind to something…” He scratched the back of his head. “Silly question, but would you bring me lots of books? I’ve recently been enthralled by Harlem Renaissance literature,” 

Harry smiled again like he’s found something rare. “Of course.” 

“Well, then I suppose we could hang out.” Zayn smiled. “Or something, I dunno. Or not. That’s fine too.” 

“Let’s just…see where this goes?” 

“Yeah, let’s.” They agreed upon it. “I think you’re pretty cool already,” was said in perfect unison. 

“Jinx.” 


	2. we can argue who gets to be the devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **And if I only could,**  
**I'd make a deal with God,**  
**And I'd get him to swap our places,**  
**Be running up that road,**  
**Be running up that hill,**  
**Be running up that building.**  
-kate bush, running up that hill (i’ll make a deal with god)

London is disgusting. At least, this side of London is. 

A side that no tourist ever sees when they visit, and locals don’t casually swing by. The streets reek of piss and the birds die while flying, but at the Advantage, the birds spin in a haze of smoke and sin. 

“Hi, Char. You’re pretty early today,” One of the waitresses inquired, giving Chartreuse a wave. “Extra shift?” 

“——— asked me to cover for her, so she's splitting the pay with me. Plus, that one white boy usually shows up today.” Charlie set his things into his locker and immediately began to strip just as the fellow employee handed him a freshly pressed outfit and pair of shoes. 

“The filthy rich one? Also, you talk about white boys as if you aren’t one,” The waitress snorted, looking into the mirror behind him and smiling automatically. “Jeez, sometimes I look at you and I can’t move. This  _ white _ boy’s a lucky guy, catching your attention.” 

“I’m half-white and not passing at all. Therefore, I’m not a white boy. And shut up, I just got a new concealer so it’s just that my bags aren’t as bad,” Charlie chided, curling his eyelashes.” 

The waitress fluffed her hair before turning to him. “Not your nonexistent dark circles, I meant your eye  _ color _ , Char. You know you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever met? You’ve come here with a black eye and you were still pretty.” 

Charlie scoffed, “You talk about that day all the time. Calling me the prettiest in the room when I covered your clothes in blood is a bit drastic, no?” 

“I’m just glad you got rid of that twat.” 

There was a brief pause. “Well…thanks, Anna. Make lots of money today.” 

“You too, love.” 

* * *

“You really didn’t need to get me a present, sir, I—I dunno how I’m going to accept this,” He batted his eyelashes at the suit-clad lawyer, who most obviously had a wife at home and thought he was the shite for being so slick. 

“You can accept it by letting me kiss you,” Arsehole bargained, sounding slithery and conniving. “It was only a few extra pounds more than the last one.” 

Charlie made a show of hesitating before looking up with an innocent smile. “C’mere, daddy.” 

“Fuck yes,” Arsehole laughed, roughly yanking Charlie onto his lap. “On the lips?” 

A head shake. “On the cheek. Maybe a little something down here,” Charlie unbuttoned his shirt to his chest. 

“Aw, don’t be like that, princess.” 

Charlie crooned through a tight smile, “What’s exclusive needs to stay exclusive, no?” 

Charlie shut his eyes when Arsehole immediately went for his chest, biting and licking it like there was no tomorrow. It was kind of disgusting, as if pure greed was currently trying to rip his nipple off. “Mm.” 

“You getting wet?” 

Dry as the Sahara. “Yeah, you always get me all worked up.” 

“Shit, can’t smell you. You should stop wearing scent blockers, maybe get more money that way.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. That’d be a horrendous idea. “Maybe I should; just for you?” His sentence tipped into a suggestive question. “Time’s almost up, I’ll call you a cab. You’ve had a lot of drinkies.” 

“Always treat me so good.” Arsehole whispers as Charlie climbs off of him, giving his butt a squeeze as he escaped the booth. 

“See you next week, daddy,” Charlie kissed his cheek. “I had fun today.” 

“Bye, angel.” Arsehole stumbled out, smelling like scent blockers and another omega’s perfume, which’ll teach him. Charlie hoped that his wife will come to her senses one day. 

“Char, your boy’s been waiting for you,” Anna was balancing the register, only looking up to see the look on his face. “I know, finally, he asks for you.” 

“Shit,” Charlie said under his breath as he made a beeline for the dressing room, quickly fixing his makeup and rebuttoning his shirt, but not before giving himself a scent blocker shower. He finally walked back out, vision going a little bit blurry. “Shit.” 

“Hi,” Cute white boy was sitting at the booth, waiting for him. There was a whiskey on the rocks with such heavy condensation it made a moat around the cup, untouched, unwanted. 

Charlie sat down at the other side, “Hi. Didn’t think this would happen,” 

“I’m Niall,” The alpha outstretched his hand very politely, which has never happened before, they usually grabbed his waist and yanked him immediately. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“No, the pleasure is all mine,” Charlie’s eyelids fluttered unintentionally, his hand being swallowed in Niall’s. “I’ve seen you come to our establishment a lot, but you’ve never asked for one of us.” 

“I watch where I tread before I fall,” Niall shrugged, letting go. “You’ve caught my eye a countless amount of times, and I’ve had rather an awful day today. Is it alright if we just talk?” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Charlie looked away when Niall forced eye contact. His eyes were blue. 

“Your eyes, they’re lovely.” 

“Thank you, yours are as well. How come your day was awful?” 

Niall leaned back to his straight back seated position, inhaling before beginning. “I’m in charge of a few non-profit organizations that have to do with education access for low income children in the U.K. Erm,” He inhaled. “There was a child I personally tutored, I found out that he overdosed a week ago. Granted, he was only a few years younger than me when we first met, but…so I guess we are both children. I lost a friend.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Charlie empathized deeply, so much to the point where his voice cracked in his consolation. “I wish I could say more past that to make this better.” 

Niall smiled small at him, “You’ve already brightened my day just by being here. So—uh, tell me, what do you…” 

“What do I…?” 

“What are your dreams?” Niall squeaked a little, his eyes going a little red. “Sorry, I just felt like you’d tell me something I needed to hear.” 

Charlie was taken aback. “Judging by what?” 

“I dunno,” Niall inquired, his voice was so gentle. “You carry yourself like you’ve lived longer than anyone in this room. And if I’m being honest, I need to be reminded what it is I’m working so hard for.” 

There was silence in the bustling club, the dim yellow lights capturing the structure of their faces as the people and dancers made their way in the world around them. “I want to be curious again.”

“How do you figure?” 

“To be treated like someone who's always thinking, always changing. I feel like a person who changes is a person who gets to grow old.” 

“I like that,” Niall looked down and smiled. “This friend, his name was Charlie too.” 

“Oh, I see.” 

“I hadn’t seen him in so long that when I heard someone call your name today, you turned around and something deep down in me made me think, ‘Yeah. I want to talk to him.’ I’m sorry if this is a more difficult conversation than what you’re used to.” Niall said with such vulnerability it made Charlie’s heart feel like something was shaking it awake.

“I mean, this has never happened to me before, so instead of the conversation being difficult I’m just scared I won’t be able to help you,” Charlie showed him his palms. “Me hands are getting a little sweaty, usually takes me a little longer for my client to get me worked up.” 

Niall chuckled, genuinely smiling at the joke, then actually reached to touch Charlie’s hands. “Nope, you’re all good. You have really nice hands, mine get very cracked at this time of the year.” 

“Thank you,” Charlie almost couldn’t get it out. “I use a hand cream from this brand called Odhran.” 

“That makes me feel silly, because family owns that brand.” They exchanged eye contact just as Charlie lost a hold of his breath. 

“Wait, really?” 

Niall pulled back and shrugged, “Yeah, my gran founded it. She was really passionate about beauty and skincare and all that. If you’d like, I could get some more products for you—“ 

“Oh no no no, I don’t—uh, I don’t accept gifts. Plus, I’ve looked up the prices and it’s much too expensive to accept something like that,” Charlie shook his head, feeling a little winded. “Thank you though.” 

Niall cocked his head to the side, “But I just saw you accept a gift from that man earlier…” 

“Ah,” His face was going red, he could feel it. “It’s just I feel bad, I wouldn’t want to accept the prospect of gifts and stuff when I haven’t even cheered you up yet.” 

Niall inhaled deeply, looking surprised. “Um, yeah, I get it, of course. Uh, what were we talking about again?” He chuckled awkwardly. 

“What do  _ you _ want out of life, Niall?” Charlie asked, confused as to why the (grand)son of a billion dollar company was in the shittiest part of town, sitting down in a Strip and Host club with him. “I know it’s rude to ask, since I don’t usually, but how come you’re here?” 

“It’s embarrassing. Wait, I misspoke, I’m not embarrassed to be here, I’m embarrassed about how I got here—“ 

“Yes, yes, I get you,” Charlie leaned his chin on his palm. “I wanna know who you are. I wanna know who Charlie was. And I mean it. So tell me how you ended up in the red light district sitting across from a whore with some fucked up eyes.”

Niall looked taken aback, which Charlie felt weird about. Why was it so surprising that someone was trying to console him about the loss of a good friend? Doesn’t he have dozens of people that he could go to? 

_ ‘Well, obviously not, if he’s sitting here talking with me. Stupid.’ _

Niall stammered, “I don’t mean to make you my manic pixie dream girl.” 

“I can be whoever you want me to be, baby, but you’re hurtin’ right now.” 

“I know what it must look like,” Niall was so nervous Charlie just wanted to wrap him up and hold him until he fell asleep in his arms. “Someone like me coming over here, ‘s almost disrespectful. But I swear I don’t have any of those intentions. It was just one day, my car got stuck on the way home in this area, and—and I saw you walk into the Advantage. It’s creepy, I know, but I just haven’t been able to get the courage or something to talk to you.”

“You know, lots of pretty rich white boys like you come here because it’s a game,” Charlie smiled and shook his head. “All of us who work here, we just play the game, and money is money. So don’t feel guilty about coming into our world as if we didn’t expect you.” 

Niall seemed a little more relieved, but his eyes were beginning to water. “Charlie—uh, the other Charlie, he always used to come over and play those silly board games, shit, sorry.” 

“You can call me Chartreuse. That’s my real name, I know, it’s almost as if I was born to be a stripper. Don’t wanna have you make anyone ‘the other.’ But keep it a secret, okay?” Charlie leaned closer, his body heat radiating with Niall’s. “Just between us.” 

Niall nodded, “By the way, I just wanted to specify that I’m not here for any sexual services, I really just wanted to get to know you.” 

“You think I’m pretty, Ni?” Charlie let the nickname roll off his tongue. “Think my eyes are pretty?” 

“I think you’re beautiful, Chartreuse. Honest. Not just ‘cause of your eyes. I heard others talk about you sometimes when I sat at the bar, talking about how Charlie’s taking over my shift, Charlie’s watching my dog, Charlie’s watching my kid. Charlie lets me sleep.” 

“You must be besotted,” Charlie rolled his eyes playfully, most definitely flattered. Though the statements should have been creepy, they somehow didn’t coming from Niall. “Our bartender is really shit at her job.” 

Niall laughed again, and it made Charlie smile. “But honestly? Now that I’m here, it’s hard to even look at you in the eye, I’m getting all shy and shit.”

“Excuse me?” Charlie blushed. “ _ I’m _ the one getting shy here. Since we’re being honest, I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to do something, almost thought you’d never do it. Charlie must’ve been something powerful if it forced you here, right now, with someone like me.” 

Niall cocked his head to the side once more. “What do you mean, ‘someone like me?’ Like an angel?” 

Charlie snorted, “You kidding? I’m no angel, sweet. I may look like one, but trust me when I say that I’ve had my fair share of the devil.  _ You _ seem angel-like to me.”

Niall stared at him for a second, before smiling softly again, “Can I say something really crazy?” 

“I’ve heard it all before.” 

“You asked what I wanted in life, and here I am, sitting here and feeling like I’m right where I’m meant to be.” 

In that moment, the ice in Niall’s whiskey rolled off of one another, creating a startling sound that made Charlie jump. 

“You don’t mean that, do you?” 

Niall shrugged, “It feels like you’ve already made up your mind about who I am. I think I wanna change that, and shit, that’s the first time I’ve thought that in months.” 

“Does this mean you’re coming back? Our time’s almost up,” Charlie didn’t want him to go, but Niall stood up, fixing his jacket. 

“How much do I owe you?” 

“Consider it on the house, angel.” 

“Do you wear perfume from my gran’s brand too? It smells familiar, is all.” Niall asked a final question as Charlie walked him to the door (which he never does.) 

Charlie frowned slightly, but fixed it, because it was a reflex to never show anything but fake sated-ness when with a client. “I don’t…I don’t wear perfume.” 

“Oh,” Niall said in a puzzled manner, “That’s interesting. Thank you for today—night, tonight.” 

Charlie giggled, “You’re very welcome.” He watched Niall walk away for a few seconds before pushing the door open to yell, “Hey!” 

Niall turned around just as he was about to open his car door. “Yeah?” 

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” 

“My family’s Catholic, but I don’t really.” 

“Well, I do,” Charlie shouted from across the street. “And if you wanna bet on fate, I bet Charlie’s trying to tell you to look back at those board games, if you still have them. ‘Change the game, Ni.’ Tell me next time if I was right.” 

“I will!” 

Niall didn’t come back for a month. 

Charlie waited for Niall to come back for a month. 

* * *

Liam was going into rut. Louis could feel it. 

“Sorry babe, tired today,” Liam murmured, snuggling Louis tighter to his chest. “Dunno why.” 

“You’re a day away from your rut, that’s why you’re sleepy.” Louis sighed, looking up at Liam’s half asleep face. “You just got here, and you’re passing out on me.” 

“Sorry,” Liam’s words were already going incoherent. 

They had been dating for six months now, after having been best friends since they were in primary school (and being in love with each other unbeknownst to the other). 

Young, rich, beautiful. They had it all, their parents were best friends, they knew each other inside and out, but one issue remained. 

Louis was 20 years old and still hasn’t had his first heat yet. He’s starting to suspect that he was a beta all along, and if he is, then it’d probably kill him. 

So obviously, every time Liam went into rut Louis thought about it, couldn’t sleep because of it, and sometimes impulsively fasted. 

Liam was a damn angel, a gift sent from God, he’s been raised right, that was the running joke between Louis and Liam’s parents, teasing on just how perfect he ended up despite so many things going wrong in the journey. He was so supportive and understanding with Louis since the very beginning, and there was no doubt in their minds that the other was  _ it _ for them. 

But was it? Doubt is infectious and no one is immune, because Louis was staring at Liam’s sleeping face with a furrowed brow expression, worrying and worrying his little heart out. 

“I love you, Li. I always will,” he kissed his nose, heart clenching when Liam scrunched up his face adorably in his sleep. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

He couldn’t even smell him that well, or produce the amount of slick that he’s supposed to produce, or have a special sensitive spot on his neck, or let off an amazing alpha magnet pheromone. All of his doctors assured him that he was definitely an omega, just stunted for some reason, but will “definitely get back on track soon enough.” 

Soon enough was too ambiguous. Louis calculated that if Liam was forced to spend another rut alone, shit was going to get messy. 

Maybe Liam’ll leave him. That’s always a possibility. 

Speak of the devil, Liam moved to wrap his arms around Louis at the feeling of his heart starting to quicken, and the latter has never wanted to sob more than this moment. 

It was a kind of violence, the universe putting them together. Nearly every day is Louis reminded of his childhood days running through his house or the garden or the street that the house lives on. Then, in these memories, if he peers to his left, Liam is right there with him. 

At some point Louis actually did end up crying. 

* * *

“Evening, Char. Mail came in today, I didn’t bother to sort it.” Anna had her reading glasses on, typing away on some official business matters as Charlie walked in through her office. 

“Annie not organizing something? Something is really wrong here,” He joked, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I don’t think anything’s for me. Can I get my schedule?” 

“Actually, quite a few of them are for you,” Anna looked up, pushing her glasses up. “That’s why I didn’t bother to sort them.” 

“Oh.” 

Charlie took off his shoes and changed into his comfy ones, shuffling over to the mail bin and taking a look inside. Indeed, there were many more packages than they usually got, and he could clearly see his name jutting out on the biggest one. No return address. 

“Need help?”

“Nah, I got it,” Charlie thanked, dragging the heavy box to the floor and grabbing the letter opener taped to the side of their mailbox. As it tore through tape and mystery, bits of cardboard flew up into the air as particulants. When he finally got through it all, he sighed, dropping the letter opener on the floor beside him as he moved to open the package. 

Inside, it was another mass wrapped with tissue paper, and a letter resting on the top. The letter opener was used for that too, and Charlie sat on his knees as he yanked the card out with little finesse. 

_ ‘I haven’t forgotten, I promise.’  _

Charlie gasped and slapped the note to his chest, feeling for his heart racing. He panted over the box, suddenly overwhelmed with how familiar it smelled, as if he could smell the hands that wrote this letter and wrapped this package. 

“Who’s it from?” Anna asked from her desk, still typing away. 

“Uh,” Charlie was speechless, tearing off the tissue paper to reveal several boxes of Odhran skincare, perfume, makeup, and accessories. “Holy motherfucking shite.” 

“Is it from that white boy? What was his name…Niall, was it?” Anna asked, but Charlie didn’t answer, just began to pull out all the different boxes with his heart in his throat, overwhelmed by its silent generosity. 

At the very bottom there was one more box, but it was separately wrapped and much too small to hold any kind of bottle or product, at least in his mind it was. 

Another note attached to the bottom of it. 

_ ‘It felt odd to gift you things I got for free, so when I saw this, I needed you to have it.’  _

Anna finally walked over when he started to frantically rip the gorgeous wrapping paper off, sputtering a laugh at how her friend was surrounded by boxes of luxury. “I guess it is from Niall?” 

“It’s a velvet box, shit, you don’t think he…” Charlie’s hands were shaking. 

“That’s from Tiffany’s, holy fuck. Just what did you let him do, fuck in the booth?” Anna dropped to her knees before it, motioning with her eyes for Charlie to crack ot open. 

He suddenly slapped his forehead with it. “Fuck, I feel so guilty. I didn’t even buy that hand cream, I lifted it.” 

Anna snorted, grabbing the box and cracking it open to see for herself, and the look on her face said it all. “You’ve caught a good one, Chartreuse Axton.” 

She turned it around and there it was, a sterling silver necklace on the left and right side of a tiny round diamond. 

This diamond was colored chartreuse, Niall had spotted his eyes in a field of blues and pinks and prettier greens. 

As Anna helped him fasten it around his neck, Charlie knew that his heart was going to be so, so broken. 

* * *

Charlie took a week off from work after that. He had enough sick days as well as collected money from the shifts he handled to do so, because he just couldn’t bring himself to be the host 100%. 

He lounged around in his rattiest sweatpants and let his hair become tangled ringlets cursing his head, face swollen after eating ramen every night at 2 AM. 

Four days in, Anna calls him just as he was about to finish the very last episode of Friends. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He snapped, only just a little peeved. 

“Your boy is here.” 

Charlie’s mouth slammed shut. “Mm, nnghsg, uh, well send him away.” 

“He’s asking for you.” 

“Tell him that I’m dead.” 

“That’s a bit fucking dramatic, don’t you think?” Anna sighed, and Charlie could imagine her rolling her eyes.

“Well, I can’t come in today.” 

“I know, I just called to see if it was okay that I gave him your number and your address.” 

A beat. 

“Annie, what the FUCK—“ 

“—Stop being this useless emo freak that’s shedding ‘angsty teen’ all over my bar. Good luck, have lots of sex tonight.” 

She hung up, making Charlie’s jaw snap shut again at the audacity. Then a text message made his phone jump awake again, and Charlie nearly had a brain aneurysm. 

**Unknown number: **

**Hi, this is Niall. Annie from the bar gave me your number and your address when I asked if you were there, and she told me to go to you. I figured that it wouldn’t be very appreciated if I just showed up randomly, but I do have something a bit urgent to tell you, so is it alright if I meet you outside your house? **

Charlie began to slam his head on the floor. His hair stank, his apartment stank, his appearance stank, his life stank. 

**Charlie: **

**Hi Niiiiiii **

**Sure! **

He nearly fell on his face on a rush to the shower, turning the water on and peeling off his clothes in such a hurry they almost ripped. He didn’t live far from the bar, and if Niall was just at the bar, he must have taken his car to get there, which means he’ll probably use his car to drive to the address that Annie shoved in his face, “I’m so fucked. Fuck, fuck why the fuck did I say yes? Fuck, he’s a motherfucking bitch. No word from him for a bloody month, when he said he’d come back soon. Now what? He’s going to get my hopes up? I’m to be his mistress?” He wailed in the shower, scrubbing at a pace close to lightspeed and ruffling his hair with shampoo and conditioner as if his water was about to run out any second. 

He leaped out, letting out a strangled cry when his toe slammed against the bathroom door, shimmying into something presentable, but not too fancy, but not too shabby either. 

His hair was just going to be wet, it was fine. Everything was fine…no it wasn’t, he turned on the blow dryer and hung his head upside down as he moved the hot air through his scalp. 

Once it looked slightly better, he slapped some face lotion on his face, brushed his eyebrows up, and before putting on lip balm he brushed his teeth and tongue. 

The phone rang once his Nivea balm was capped, and Charlie felt the air become thick. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Charlie.” 

“I thought we agreed to call me Chartreuse,” 

“I figured that I wasn’t going to make  _ you _ the ‘other Charlie’ either. You should be called what you want to be called.” 

Shit, his heart was jumping. “Are you outside?” 

“I think so,” 

Charlie rushed to the window and cracked his blinds open, and there he was, in his long coat and shiny shoes. “I see you, I’ll be right down.” 

“Cheers.” 

Charlie wondered if it’d be dramatic to knock himself out by falling down the stairs.

His hand turned the knob, and when it opened, his soul yanked higher, as if it wanted to leave. 

“I’m so sorry, I meant to come back sooner,” Niall immediately apologized, which Charlie didn’t understand. Wordlessly, he walked over to him, enticed by his face and his body and scent, his hands ended up on his shoulders. “H—hi.” 

“Hi,” Charlie whispered, he didn’t know what to do. “Thank you for the gifts, it made me really happy.” 

“It made me really happy thinking about you receiving them.” 

“Do you mean that?” Charlie cocked his head to the side, and enjoying him, Niall cocked his head to the side too. 

“I mean that.” 

“You smell so fucking good,” Charlie sobbed, dropping his hands to cover his mouth. “I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about you, always got jumpy when a customer would walk in.” 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” Niall admitted with honesty, hands fidgeting anxiously. “When I asked you what perfume you wore, you said you didn’t wear any.” 

“I don’t; I wear blockers.” 

“I wore blockers today before coming here.” 

It took a moment to realize what he was trying to say, but when Charlie finally caught on to what he was getting at, his body froze, he closed his eyes. 

“Hi,” Niall suddenly stepped back, making Charlie’s eyes fly back open. “I’m Niall James Horan. I’m 21, I graduated from the University of Edinburgh this year, I’m young and I’m stupid and I know we’ve only talked for an hour but that was all I needed to realize that I am in love with you.” 

“What the fuck,” Charlie laughed through tears, looking up to the night sky like he just couldn’t believe the situation he was in. “I’m Chartreuse Beau Axton. I’m 21, and I’ve been a host at the Advantage for three years. I’m stupider than you, for sure, and shit, we only talked once but I knew you were in the room for weeks before that even if I couldn’t see you.” 

“God, babe,” Niall reached forward and brushed Charlie’s cheek with the side of his index finger. “Look at you.” 

“‘I wanna change how you think of me,’” Charlie mocked as Niall cupped his face, sniffling. “‘I wanna know all your hopes and dreams.’” 

“I want to surprise you,” Niall got closer. “I want to take you out.” 

“Okay, then.” Charlie snapped, wiping his tears away. “Okay.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

“It’s not your fault, I just cry a lot,” Charlie yelped in surprise when Niall kissed his cheek and wiped his tears away. “Are we dating? Starting now?” 

“Shit,” Niall was very preoccupied judging by how deeply he’s buried his face into Charlie’s neck. “Did you take a shower? Your scent—it’s even stronger. Fuck.” 

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you curse,” Charlie laughed, wrapping his arms around him. “I want you to come upstairs.” 

“Yeah?” 

Charlie pulled back and their noses touched. “Yeah.” 

Niall went red, his ears becoming pink, and he buried his face back into his neck. “Isn’t it a bit too soon?” 

“If sex is a deep thing for you, we don’t hafta.” 

“I wanna,” 

“I wanna too,” 

Niall giggled, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

“And you’re an intellectual, what a pair we make,” Charlie whispered. “Won’t they disapprove, your family?” 

“I don’t think they will,” Niall smiled, “And even if they do, they can’t deny that we have something going on here. If we can smell each other through scent blockers…” 

“I do have to admit that this is very fast, even for me,” Charlie felt Niall’s hands hold his waist and realized that they were swaying on the sidewalk. “But I also want you to know something else, just so we go into this transparent.” 

“‘Course, love.” 

“Shit, don’t call me love, I don’t want to make a puddle in the street,” Charlie said just to make Niall blush and look away. “But anyways, I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time.” 

“How come?” 

“My ex beat me, and it got really bad. I went to one of those free counselling clinics for two years after we got the bastard arrested.”

Niall looked aghast and his bright face suddenly became stormy, “‘We?’” 

“Me and the other dolls at the Advantage. Which is another thing, I’m not stopping my work.” 

“I wasn’t going to ask you to,” Niall surprised him. “See? There it is: that look of surprise on your face.” 

Charlie blinked. “You’d be okay if I kept working as a host?” 

“I only ask that perhaps…maybe you wouldn’t do many things with your clients that I wouldn’t necessarily be keen on.” Niall stammered, not wanting to sound controlling or disrespectful. 

“Angel, you can just ask me not to kiss ‘em, I don’t have to anyways. Nor did I really want to,” Charlie giggled, loving Niall’s expressions right now. 

“I am so happy for you,” 

“Hm?” 

“That you came out of that with a fighting attitude, I know so many people who never seek out professional help nor even tell their friends,” Niall brushed the hair out of Charlie’s face. “The moon is making your eyes sparkle or something.” 

“Am I in a dream right now?” Charlie raised his eyebrows, and now they were basically slow dancing in the dark. 

Niall scrunched his face up, “ _ I _ can’t possibly be your dream.” 

“You’re too fucking modest,” Charlie grumbled playfully, Niall’s hands were warm on his body. “You serious about dating me?” 

“As serious as all the times I walked back into the club just so I could see you. As serious as all those times I wanted to say something to you but couldn’t because your smell would hit me and it made me feel like I was born yesterday.” 

Charlie stopped them. “Lock your car before it gets stolen. Come upstairs.” He grabbed Niall’s hand and began to lead him towards the building.

“Can I know about these one day?” Niall asked, his fingers reaching up to his wrist, and it made Charlie freeze. He was referring to the faint scars littered across from end to end, and although the subject scared him, Charlie turned around. 

“One day,” he nodded, and Niall looked at him with a calmness in his eyes. “Can I know about this one day?” Charlie reached and lightly hovered his fingers over a giant white scar on Niall’s neck, just above his collarbone. 

Niall looked down, blinked a few times at it and looked back up. “One day.” 

“It’s cold out here, and I bet all of my neighbors have seen us dancing like crackheads.” They walked up the stairs together, and when the door shut, it almost felt like another was opened.

“You were right, by the way. I had someone dig out all of the old board games, and when I opened them, it was like Charlie was in there. We had scribbled new rules on the margins of the manuals, scratched our names on the back of the playing boards, there were polaroids in the bottom of the boxes because we took one every time one of us won. It made me remember that Charlie had happy days, and that I can’t ask for much more past that.” 

The wind whispered secrets, and the earth told nothing, but the moon that night was brilliant; and sang to the both of them just about everything they needed to know. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is severely unedited, but I felt like I had to release something to sate my Chiall fans. We love Chiall! WE LOVE CHIALL! 
> 
> leave me a comment on what you think will happen next.  
ta,  
j


	3. just when you thought i got rid of sean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **And I think it's gonna be a long long time**  
**'Till touch down brings me round again to find**  
**I'm not the man they think I am at home**  
**Oh no no no I'm a rocket man**  
**Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone**  
-elton john, rocketman

** _Two months later. _ **

“You’re in my seat again.”

“I thought there would be enough space for two,” Harry shifted, impossibly long legs taking up the entire windowsill, therefore making it impossible for Zayn to sit anywhere. “How ambitious do you feel?” 

Zayn rolled his eyes at him, the four volumes in his arms were getting heavier as they spoke. “You’re getting increasingly ridiculous, Harry Styles. I am not sitting on your lap.” 

“I never suggested it,” Harry flailed the copy of  The Good Earth in front of Zayn, “I heard you were looking for this.” 

Zayn frowned, unable to process his feelings on Harry’s attempt at friendly teasing and banter. It didn’t help that he couldn’t do much every time he was around, overwhelming all of his senses and having a grip on his heart every time he fucking smiled. “I’ll read it once you’re done.” 

“But baby,” 

Zayn’s eye twitched. “I’m not your baby.” 

“Won’t you be?” Harry cocked his head to the side, bringing his legs back over so that he could face him straight on. He pointed to the books Zayn was carrying against his chest, “My family is friends with the person who wrote those.” 

“It’s for a project,” Zayn retorted, immediately remembering that Harry knew he wasn’t an actual student at this university. “Uh, personal. It’s a…it’s a hypothesis I’m testing.” 

“I’m intrigued, tell me how I can help.” 

_ By wearing some stronger scent blockers and avoiding all eye contact with me.  _

“It’s an independent project, and I wouldn’t want to keep you from doing your assignments, which I’m sure you have plenty of,” Zayn stammered, his tongue was confused in his mouth and he had no idea how to correct it. 

“Want to get dinner?” 

His eye twitched again, “Uh, I don’t think you’d like me very much. I’m not much fun.” He looked up, losing his breath at the sight of Harry’s face. Fuck. 

Harry awed, “Alright, alright. I get the message, I’ll leave you alone.” He came down from the windowsill, and gently added the copy of The Good Earth on top of Zayn’s pile. “Let me know if you change your mind, you have my number.” 

As he walked away, Zayn set the books down quickly before chasing after him, grabbing his arm in an unexplainable panic, “Harry?” 

“Yeah, babe?” Harry’s voice was low and scratchy, the timbre of a man and the charisma of a woman. 

“How come you’re so intrigued by me?” Zayn tossed his hair, eyes darting up and down to limit eye contact. 

Harry pointed to his face, “Because I noticed.” 

“Noticed what?” 

“How do you  _ not _ notice?” 

“Notice  _ what _ ?” 

Harry giggled, shushing him. They were in a library after all. “You’re the most interesting thing in all of England, Zayn Malik. The way I met you, the way you talk, it’s gotten me thinking all the time now that I’m not reading in between the lines enough. I want to get to know you,” 

“You don’t.” 

“And how do you know that?” 

All of Harry’s questions were hard, and when Zayn was faced with hard questions, he shut down. 

So he shut down. 

“I guess I don’t. See you later.” He spun around and walked away before Harry even had time to retort, and he had to have needed a long time, judging by the look of astonishment on his face when Zayn left him standing there. 

* * *

“I don’t understand, he looks like a toad in all of these photos.” Louis cackled at him, scrolling through his phone as he rolled around on Zayn’s four poster bed. “But I mean, apart from that, what’s wrong with him? Is he dull or summat?” 

Zayn shook his head, “He’s just weird. Won’t leave me alone.” 

“Like a stalker?” Louis sat up. 

“No,” Zayn furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated on the page he was reading. “Just…won’t leave me alone up here.” He tapped the side of his head. 

Louis rolled his eyes and snorted, “Sounds like you like him.” 

“That’s preposterous.” Zayn glared in his direction. “What’re you doing here anyways?” 

“You’re my best friend, and I need your help,” Louis crawled over to Zayn, pulling the book out of his hands and setting it to the side. “It’s about Liam.” 

“Again?” Zayn groaned, pouting his lips. “Why is it always about Liam?” 

“He got his rut today,” Louis twiddled his thumbs. “I’m just nervous, is all.” 

Zayn’s face softened and he cuddled up to Louis’ side. “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about. There’s no one that silly boy loves more.” He giggled at Louis’ face of surprise. 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Zayn asked, intertwining their legs. “You know I love you.” 

“You do?” 

Zayn slapped his arse lightly, “That’s not funny. I’m not dense, Louis, I can tell when you get all sad and shite.” 

“But I’m not sad, see? I’m smiling, I’ve got a lovely smile.” Louis grinned, but it was weak, and they both knew it. Zayn squeezed his side, making him flinch and flop. 

“You’ve lost weight.” Zayn commented, looking a bit pensive. 

Louis reached over and grabbed Zayn’s bottle of pills, shaking it around. “And you’ve been skipping days.” 

“Well, out with it, what’s going on with you and Liam?” 

Louis stared at him for a moment, still holding the bottle, but now he was forced to choose what exactly he wanted to push. He set the orange bottle down, and turned to his friend. “I’m scared he’ll leave me, I think.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” Louis looked down. “I’m not real.” 

“Just what the fuck does that mean?” Zayn threw his head back in all of its ridiculousness, rufflin Louis’ hair. “Seems real to me.”

“Don’t you ever think that the way we worked out is weird? We were just friends for what, almost 15 years and then we start dating but we haven’t shared a heat or a rut or nothin?” Louis looked immensely sad, and Zayn didn’t know what to do about it. 

He inhaled deeply before speaking, “Lou, he loves you so goddamn much the force of it makes everyone else leave the room.” 

“Isn’t that the issue? I can’t be what he needs,” Louis looked ready to cry. “And it sounds so stupid, but he’s my entire life, Zaynie, and if I end up being the one who wasted his time, I think I’ll die.” 

Zayn was stunned silent, “What do you mean you’ll die?” 

Two tears ran down Louis’ face, and Zayn immediately reached to brush them off before they fell off of his cheeks. “There isn’t even remotely anything interesting about me, Zaynie, there’s no reason, there’s no reason—“ 

“Louis Tomlinson, you know six languages. You can fence, you can cook, you can sing. You’re funny as shit and if it’s any consolation from me, you’re the only one who’s lasted this long as a friend of mine. I love you because you’re all the things I find interesting, and I’m positive Liam feels the same way.” 

“Zaynie,” Louis’ voice cracked. “Isn’t that the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me?” 

“Maybe, but it was easy this time around because I felt really keen on saying it,” Zayn quickly looked back over to his book and snatched it. “Lou, it’s all going to be okay.” 

“Yeah,” Louis whispered, and fell backwards right onto the bed. “I love you so much, Zaynie, it’s indescribable. I hope I’ll always be your friend. Not even till death do us part, you hear? Forever and ever and ever.” 

Zayn looked over at him with a worried expression, but like most things, he was scared to say more. So he shut down, let the cloud in his mind take back over what he wished was better, and didn’t think at all about how Louis hasn’t gone out into the world for the last two months. 

* * *

Things were becoming dire. Trisha and Yaser bought Zayn’s way into the university, and now here he was, actually studying for a test that he actually had, but of course he couldn’t focus because that’s what he was best at: not being able to focus. If only he was able to write his thesis on how he couldn’t focus, what an incredible juxtaposition it all was. 

It was simply impossible, and Zayn just couldn’t do it. He stared at the blinking cursor for a solid minute, unable to even write his name down, his chest felt tight and his temples ached like he’d been clenching his jaw. There was no way he was going to be able to pass this semester, but his parents were adamant on him “finally directing his attention to important things” rather than just eating and reading books all the time. 

Oh, the fidgeting. 

Zayn ripped an entire notebook page out so that he could rip it up into bits, twist the bits together, create spirals, and make it shed into powder. It was one of his many habits, and not too much could be done about that one. 

“Hiya,” 

Zayn immediately rolled his eyes. “Hi.”

Harry pulled up a chair next to him and sat down, “I thought you didn’t go to this school.” 

“I do now,” Zayn picked up his pen and pretended to write something down, but of course, Harry noticed, because that’s what Harry’s best at: noticing. 

“‘I hate my motherfucking life?’” Harry tipped his head, and Zayn got red so quickly that he looked like a smashed tomato. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just can’t do it,” his own answer surprised the hell out of him. “I can’t.” The vulnerability had his soul quaking where it be. 

“Can’t focus?” Harry hit the mark right on time, pushing the pieces of paper Zayn had ripped up on the desk with his right hand. “There are medications for this, you know.” 

“Don’t like taking them,” 

“I take them, and I finished this assignment already.” Harry said confidently, and it was almost frightening that he knew so much based on so little. 

“You’re in this class?” Zayn finally looked at him, which resulted in an expression of triumph. “Uh, I mean, you’re probably just super smart or summat. I’m just a dumbass.” 

“A dumbass who graduated when he was 20?” Harry asked, leaning on the table, blinking at him cutely. “What’s the matter?”

“You smell good,” Zayn muttered under his breath, positive Harry couldn’t hear. 

“Thanks, it’s Gucci.” 

He snapped his head back and flushed red again, indignantly avoiding eye contact, “Erm…the antidepressants I take now don’t react well with the ADD medication, so.” He had no idea why he was telling Harry this, but out it came. 

“How come you ignore me?” Harry pouted, shuffling closer to Zayn. “It makes me feel sad, but then you blush or you smile at me and I get pulled back in again.” 

“You’re just…flirty,” Zayn panted softly, getting overwhelmed with how close the alpha was getting. “And I’m not ignoring you. I’m talking to you right now, see?” 

“I’m not quite satisfied,” Harry tilted his chin up with his big, warm hand. “Let me look at you.” 

“People are going to think we’re dating.” 

“Isn’t that the whole point?” Harry raised his eyebrows, “You’re a true beaut Zayn Malik, you know that?” He asked, shaking his head slightly. “There’s no way that I’ll stop trying to understand you.” 

“But why? Aren’t you tired, Harry?” Zayn finally pulled away to type his name in the corner of the white page, heaving a sigh when he couldn’t even remember his professor’s name to write under. “It’s been two months, haven’t you concluded by now that I’m boring and uninspired?”

Harry closed his laptop and spun Zayn around, stopping him when his whole body faced in his direction. “It’s been two months and you’ve already shut down. It seems to me that I must be the one who’s boring and uninspired. I think I really like you, Zayn, and I want this to work out.” 

“You want my money and my status, Harry,” Zayn replied shakily, deflecting with all his might. “It doesn’t make sense for you to…” He sniffled, stuffing his laptop into its case. 

“For me to what?” Harry looked up at him, held his wrist in his hand. 

Zayn shook it off and looked back down. “Listen, I have a lot going on right now, alright? I can’t seem to figure my shit out, and if I’m being honest it feels like you’re trying to force something that’s not there.” He picked up his bag and walked away, but tripped over himself when he got six paces away, the contents of his bag spilling all over the floor. 

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, standing up to help Zayn get all his stuff back together. He noticed how his hands were shaking. “Here—“

“I got it,” Zayn’s voice was small. “I—I—“

“Zayn?” Harry asked, and Zayn closed his eyes. “If I’m trying to force something, how come I can smell you?” 

They snapped back open to see Harry holding a canister of scent blocker that had fallen out of his bag, looking at him with an unreadable expression strewn across his eyes. 

“I…” Zayn didn’t like hard questions. 

He snatched the spray from Harry’s hand, gathered his things and left. 

“Zayn,” He heard him call out. “I swear to God I’m not trying to use you. Please, wait.” 

Zayn responded without turning back, “It’s not even you, Harry, alright? Don’t think it’s you, it’s me, and I just need to sort my shite out and live my life, just, I don’t know what I’m saying—I’m sorry.” 

* * *

“Are you fucking thick?” 

“Sorry?” 

“Are you,” Louis smashed their foreheads together. “Fucking thick?” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Zayn deflected again, giving Louis the side eye as he shoved away. “And you need to shower, gross.” 

“He totally likes you, Zayn! Who the fuck even cares if he just wants the money? Play the game,” Louis groaned, going over to the sink and dunking his head under the tap. “He’s hot as hell.” 

“Just yesterday you said he looked like a toad.” 

“That was yesterday, look at his Instagram,” Louis miraculously finished washing his hair and was now ruffling it silly with a towel. “Why don’t you just hit it and quit it?” 

Zayn wrinkled his face, “That’s vulgar, Lou.” 

“Trust me, Zayn, you don’t want to be an adult and not yet sexually mature. You’re lucky you got your heat at 15.” Louis said through a mouthful of foamy toothpaste. 

“I would rather not have that idea planted into my head, thank you very much. In fact, stop projecting,” Zayn rubbed his temples. “I need to write this stupid fucking essay.” 

“You’ve written one line; the title.” Louis looked him up and down. “Baby boy, why are you playing school again? Aren’t we done with that?” 

“Don’t call me baby boy.” Zayn went red. 

Louis shimmied in between him and the laptop, “Baby boy,” he extended, sighing when Zayn looked away. “Why are you being shy? I’ve been calling you baby boy for years.” 

“I shall not be called by that term no more, I renounce your right,” Zayn bopped his head. “Lou, I don’t want to do this anymore.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“Mama is making me, says I can’t just sneak into their libraries anymore.” 

“Then find a different library, since you’re so  _ keen _ on avoiding this Styles character,” Louis suggested, but when Zayn had nothing to say to that, he suddenly understood just what was going on. “But you don’t want to do that, huh? Want to  _ keep on _ hanging around this Styles character?” 

“Are you kidding?” Zayn sputtered, turning away. “He just…makes me feel things, alright? Things that are scary and I don’t want to be scared like that.” 

Louis scoffed, “Baby boy,” Zayn glared at him. “Baby boy,” He repeated, giving Zayn a reprimanding look. “C’mere.” 

They pulled each other onto the bed, shuffling duvets and excess pillows about until they were comfortable in their impromptu nest. “Yes, Lou?” 

“Does he smell good to you?” Louis asked warmly, brushing hair behind Zayn’s ear. “So good you want him to hold you ‘till you stop breathing?” 

“Nah,” Zayn lied. 

“Hm, when Zayn Malik says ‘nah,’ that usually means a yes,” Louis giggled, coming closer. “His hands are warm, huh?” 

“How’d you know?” Zayn closed his eyes when Louis placed a kiss on his head. “What was that for?” 

“For being so cute,” Louis grabbed his nose. “But baby, don’t be running away because you’re scared of something that has the capability to be something great.” 

“Or disastrous,” Zayn interjected. “My therapist has been telling me not to get myself into destructive situations.” 

“Your therapist is an idiot,” Louis murmured. “How’re you supposed to be reborn if you don’t die a few times?” Zayn was starting to fall asleep, and it was the most endearing thing ever. “Tell you what, babe, I bet you if you keep at it with your treatments and your counselling and your schooling, the world will become a lot bigger. And maybe you don’t want the world to be bigger, but it has to, and you’re gonna need to find out how to deal with that change.” 

“Louuuuu,” Zayn complained. “I’m sleepy, can’t we talk about this later?” 

“No,” Louis looked like he was ready to cry, but of course, he’d never show that to Zayn. “You need’ta hear it. Play the game, baby, okay? For me.” 

“For you? That’s oddly sinister sounding.” 

“It’s not sinister, this is me praying for you, okay? If he smells good, you go get him. If he flusters you in ways that no one has ever flustered you before, you go get him. Fuck all that bullshit about compability and how mentally able we all are.” Louis sighed, realizing that Zayn had stopped listening a while ago. 

“Yeah, okay.” Zayn mumbled, his eyes shut. 

Louis kissed him one more time, wishing for him to dream of a world where they had no fear and had everything; not the money, not the looks, but the courage.

Louis prayed for Zayn to possess the thing they all lacked; courage. 

* * *

Zayn was walking through the main courtyard when a man twice his stature and half his net worth slithered up to him like a tiger seeking its prey. 

“Hey baby,” Zayn jumped when a hand fluttered alongside his waist and pulled him slightly. “How’re you doing?” 

“Sean,” Zayn complained, and shoved his hand off. “I have to go to class. I don’t have time for this.” 

Sean made a face, “Time for what, baby? C’mon,” He grabbed Zayn again, and the force of it nearly made him drop his books. 

“S-Sean,” Zayn stuttered, powerless in his hold. “Stop it,” 

“Sometimes baby, I can’t get enough of you,” Sean groaned, pushing Zayn’s head to the side to press his nose into his neck. “You’re it for me, baby, did you know that?” 

“I’m not,” Zayn whimpered when Sean palmed the sensitive spot on his neck harshly, his entire body giving up and becoming limp in his arms. “Go away, Sean, seriously.” 

“I haven’t had my fill of my Zaynie yet,” Sean whined, kissing his neck. “You smell so fucking good.” 

“Hey.” 

Both Zayn and Sean looked up at the voice, and there he was, like a hunter seeking out to skin a tiger, standing there nonchalantly with his bag slung over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” 

“Harry?” Zayn blushed, he was so embarrassed that someone was seeing him like this, the small little bitch who lets alphas have their way with him as they please without ever really fighting back.

To Harry, this was the most horrifying thing he’s ever seen. Zayn’s started to tremble. “Who’s this?” 

“I’m Sean,” Sean responded, and that’s when Zayn dropped his hair to cover his face. “Sean Montgomery, who’re you?” 

“Harry,” He said calmly, “Harry Styles. You know what, me and Zayn have a project we need to finish and I need him right now. Can’t you love on him another time?” 

“Huh,” Sean scoffed softly, as if he couldn’t believe that Harry wasn’t even trying to pick a fight. “Zayn doesn’t even go to this school.” 

“He does now,” Harry shrugged, “And I’m going to fail if we don’t finish in time, so…” He pondered on what to do next. Wait until Sean lets him go? Or… “C’mon, Zayn, let’s go.” He stretched his hand out, and Zayn’s eyes widened to the size of plates. 

“Huh?” Sean was so confused, and Zayn wished to sink into the earth. He contemplated doing nothing and just dealing with Sean’s antics for a few more minutes like he usually did, but something in him begged him to entertain something different. 

“Okay,” Zayn’s voice was hoarse, but he grabbed Harry’s hand with all his strength and shook Sean off, and that’s when Harry yanked him into his chest and closed his arms around him. “Harry?” 

“You can fuck off now,” Harry’s voice became low, and Zayn just didn’t fucking understand what was going on. “Sean.” 

Sean grinned like he proved himself right, “I see what’s going on. Alright, Styles, I get it. New country, latch onto the tastiest thing you see, but what’re you going to do about how we act around here?” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Zayn Malik is worth more than if I rounded up your entire family and sold them. You don’t belong here.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “And you do? That’s why you sexually harass omegas in stark public like some obese seal forcing itself onto a penguin?” 

Sean’s nostrils flared. “What?” 

“Look me up, Sean. I think you’ll find that I’ll adjust to England just fine.” Zayn was about to slip through his hands, and so Harry picked him up and wrapped his arms around his protectively, walking swiftly away into the collaboration building. “Zayn, are you okay?” 

“Harry, why’d you do that? Now he’s going to make it a mission to bother you too,” Zayn’s voice was shaky, he started to pound on Harry’s shoulder with his fist. 

“It’s okay if he bothers me,” Harry sat them down at a table near the corner where they were out of sight. “Did he hurt you?” He moved towards his bag, shuffling things around as Zayn blankly stared into space. “Zayn.” 

“He just, he bit me,” Zayn sniffled, and Harry’s face became stormy. “It doesn’t hurt that bad, though.” 

“What the fuck is this dude’s problem?” Harry grumbled, bringing Zayn closer to inspect it. “What kind of alpha…” 

“The kind that can get away with anything,” Zayn chuckled, melting into Harry’s touch. “What’s that?” 

“A first-aid kit?” Harry showed him, and Zayn stifled a laugh. “What, you don’t carry one in your bag?” 

“No,” Zayn giggled, and Harry smiled. “Is that a sewing kit?”

“You’d be surprised how many of my clothes rip on a day to day basis,” Harry shrugged and Zayn snorted, so loudly that his shoulders shook. “Find that funny?” 

“That’s really adorab—“ Zayn stopped himself when Harry held him in place to apply ointment to his neck. “It’s really not that bad.” 

“Yeah, not that bad, judging by these scars over here and here and here.” Harry shook his head, “Your neck is gonna look like a battlefield if you keep letting him do this. Carry pepper spray,” His breath tickled his skin. 

“How very American of you,” Zayn teased. “It’s honestly not a big deal though, it’s just the way Sean is.” 

“Doesn’t mean it’s the way he should be,” Harry murmured gently, and Zayn felt his heart flutter again. “You’re wearing Daisy by Marc Jacobs, aren’t you?” 

“Huh? Oh, uh, my little sister sprayed me saying that I smelled like a ‘swampy apple orchard’ so…I guess so?” Zayn sniffed his shirt, pondering just what kind of effeminant scent it emitted. 

“I don’t like it, you smell good on your own,” Harry pouted, and Zayn was a goner. “All fixed up.” 

“Thanks,” 

“You don’t need to thank me. Any decent person will have done what I just did, okay? I want you to want more for yourself than Sean Montgomery,” he seethed the name out. “What an awful bitch.” 

“Harry, you confuse me, you know that?” 

“How so?” Harry cocked his head to the side, pulling his laptop out of his bag. 

Zayn bit his lip, “I just don’t know what you want from me, really.” 

Harry smiled, “You’re fascinating, and I want to know enough about you to write a whole prize winning book. It’s that simple.” 

“But you already told me you had an ulterior motive.” Zayn decided to take his own computer out. 

“Yeah, but,” Harry sighed. “No matter what happens, I’ll figure it out. The money is only number one on my list of priorities, the dreams are higher.” 

“What number is higher than number one?” Zayn asked. 

“Happiness, Zayn Malik, is my number zero.” Harry smirked as he typed his password in. “And you can only think you’ll get happy if you know you want to do things.” 

“That’s from  Native Son ,” Zayn whispered. 

“You’re pretty good, aren’t you?” Harry smiled at him. “How’s that paper coming along?” 

“Terribly,” Zayn admitted, and usually, that’s something he’d have trouble saying out loud. But with Harry, he felt safe to say. “I can’t do it. I don’t know what to write about.” 

“Yes you do, it’s right in that prompt. Just go off, close your eyes and go off,” Harry made it a point to cover his eyes with his hands. “Just forget about where you are, forget about what you’re doing. You have the information of what must be a thousand books in your head, and you understand them so well, Zayn Malik, that I know to be true.” 

“I do have to commend you for your attempt at encouragement, Harry,” Zayn rested his wrists on the edge of his laptop. “Maybe it will work.” 

“I’ll distract you.” 

“Hm?” Zayn asked, but before he could say anything, a cloth was being placed over his eyes. “Oh wow, you really thought this through, huh?” 

“Hey Zayn, what would you find in Charles Dickens’ pantry?” 

“I dunno,” 

“The best of thyme, the worst of thyme,” Harry held in a laugh as he said it, and the grimace on Zayn’s face was enough to make it spill over. “Sorry, was that too bad?”

“Shush, Harry,” Zayn waved him off, wherever direction he was. “I’m trying to write or some shite, don’t tell me another joke.” 

“You won’t stop me. Why did the reader give up on Pride and Prejudice?” 

“Argh. Why?” 

“The characters were too Austentatious.”

“Oh my god, get out,” Zayn groaned, and Harry howled in laughter, thank god they weren’t in the library. 

He would've been able to feel Harry smiling from a hundred kilometers away, and through this, he typed his stream of consciousness onto a paper he could not see. And somehow, that required no focus. The words flowed naturally as air. “Hey Harry, How did Charlotte Brontë make it easier for everyone to breathe?” 

“How?” He felt Harry get closer to him. 

“She created Eyre.” 

* * *

“Are you in love with me?” Charlie asked the question, and Niall nearly spat out his food. “I’m just curious, no pressure if you aren’t.” 

Niall gave him silence, and Charlie couldn’t handle that. “Niall, come on.” 

“Of course I’m in love with you,” He mumbled, and Charlie most definitely heard it, but motioned for him to repeat it louder. “I am definitely in love with you.” 

“Well, shit. Didn’t expect that, to be completely honest,” Charlie laughed nervously, pushing his dinner around with his fork. “Now what?” 

“What about you, Chartreuse Beau Axton?” Niall inquired, reaching his own fork to help Charlie push his dinner around. “What do you think about me?” 

“I think you’re a gem, Niall James Horan. A real fucking gem, and I just don’t know what to do about it at this point,” Charlie shooed his hand away. “I’m unfortunately besotted.” 

“That’s truly unfortunate,” Niall smirked at him, “Will you go on our fourteenth date with me next Tuesday?” 

“I just might.” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave me a comment it’s my birthday today plus i get sad when no one leaves comments luv u loves   
-j


	4. with all my love, esther greenwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **See these eyes so green**  
**I can stare for a thousand years**  
**Just be still with me**  
**You wouldn't believe what I've been through**  
**You've been so long**  
**Well it's been so long**  
**And I've been putting out fire with gasoline**  
-david bowie, cat people

** _Another two months later. _ **

“Zayn, come on, babe. Let’s go.” 

It was Louis who had defied everyone’s word on going out in the dead of the night by himself, but at this point, he couldn’t find it within himself to care all that much. “Zaynie.” 

“I want to stay here, Lou. This drink tastes like Jolly Ranchers,” Zayn whispered, nearly passed out on the couch with a cup in his hand. “You know what a Jolly Rancher is?” 

“No, I don’t, love.” Louis gave up, instead deciding to lay on top of Zayn in a protective manner, intertwining their legs. 

“It’s this American candy Harry had me try one a few weeks ago. It’s funny, if we were in America, we’d be in a fraternity and this cup would be a red “Solo” cup, and I’d be fucking someone on the top floor in a few minutes and or having a seizure with all the shit I just took.” Zayn giggled, and Louis snatched the cup away and set it on the coffee table. 

“What did you take, Zaynie?” Louis tried to be kind about it, but in truth he was really, really fucking furious. 

“Just a few lines.” 

Louis stood up and dragged Zayn up with him, desperately trying to escape this situation with a small bit of finesse. “We’re going home, I have to take you home.” 

“Why? It was just a few lines,” Zayn protested, and Louis could feel the pairs of Alpha eyes watching them, as if they were giving them a head start in what was definitely a hopeless chase. 

“You’re on meds, Zayn, you’re going to  _ actually _ get a seizure if you keep going,” Louis growled, finally getting them out the door and immediately pulling out his phone to call an Uber. 

“I’m not on my meds.” Zayn slumped onto the curb with his eyes closed. 

“And why the fuck not?” Louis pleaded exasperatedly, he couldn’t recognize his friend at all, and Zayn was always supposed to be the control, the thing that should and never would change from its level of  _ having to worry about it _ . 

“Harry makes me happy,” Zayn smiled, face pressed to the ground. “He makes me so happy.”

“That’s not a valid reason,” He broke down in tears, plopping down next to Zayn with his face covered in his hands. “Zayn, please stop, you’re upsetting me. You have school, you have parents who love you too much to have ever taught you to do this shit, you have little sisters who look up to you, fucking  _ stop _ .” 

“Why’re you crying, Lou?” Zayn reached a hand up towards his face and missed. “Why’re you crying?” 

“Zaynie, it’s not safe in there and you knew it,” Louis sobbed, his head felt like it weighed a million kilograms. “You knew no one would be up, nevertheless even believe you other than me.”

“I’m just having some fun,” 

“You’re just acting like me,” Louis wiped his tears away when the Uber pulled up. “You want to turn out like me, Zayn? Deadlocked in being fucked up and lost halfway in everything?” They picked each other up, and stumbled to the car, the driver came out and opened the door for them. 

“You’re not fucked up,” Zayn furrowed his brows, then collapsed his head against Louis’ shoulder. “I love you so much.” 

Louis reached a hand to hold Zayn’s face to his shoulder, heart beating so wildly it probably thought he was on some adventure. “You don’t know shit, babe.” 

“Are we going to your house?” 

“Yeah, don’t want you walking in and Saf seeing you like this,” Louis sighed, Zayn slumping onto his lap. “You’re stupid, you know that?” 

“Yeah.” 

The navigation dinged that they were in front of Louis’ home, the driver whistling at the mere sight of it. “You two rich or summat?” 

“I guess you could say that. Cheers,” Louis yanked Zayn out of the car and they stumbled onto the sidewalk, and he had never felt more of a longing to cuddle up in bed and sob. “Come on, Zaynie.” 

“M’kay.” 

“Lou? Zayn?” 

Ah, fuck. “Hi Li,” Louis greeted him without turning to look at him. “Whatcha doing?” 

“Going for a run, it’s 9:30. Is he drunk?” Liam moved forward and Louis flinched, most visibly so, and this was the worst thing that could’ve fucking happed. 

_ This bitch really got high and smashed by 9:30 _ , Louis seethed repugnantly in his head, and had no choice but to let Liam close to them. “Can you help me carry him inside?” 

“Of course, babe,” Liam let the words slip easily, and Louis felt sick. “I’ve actually wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Louis heaved, holding tightly onto Zayn’s clothes as he led them into the house and up the stairs. Liam gently carried Zayn in his arms and motioned for Louis to let go, and when he did, he padded into Louis’ room and there were mumbles of ‘Hi Leeeee,’ and ‘Go to bed, Zaynie, it’s all alright now.’ 

The alpha came back out with a sullen smile directed towards Louis, but he was always soft. “Babe,” 

“I know.” Louis cut him off. 

“You’ve been ignoring me for weeks now, Lou, with no explanation or anything. Just what the hell is going on?” They stood there in the hallway so grand that even a whisper echoed into a bellow. 

Louis’ heart was under his feet, “I just haven’t been feeling very well.” 

“How come you didn’t tell me then, love?” Liam sighed, coming closer with his arms spread out to pull him in. “Babe, please talk to me.” 

“I’m okay,” Louis murmured, clutching Liam’s shirt with both fists and shoving his face in his chest. “Really, I’m fine.” 

“Is this about asking Alex to spend my rut with me last month?” 

Louis froze. “Yes and no.” 

“I don’t understand,” Liam shook his head and gathered his arms tighter. “Louis.”

“It’s not about him, it’s fine. It’s more about me, but I’m fine too. I’m fine. Sorry I ignored you.” Louis let go with his hands shaking, still avoiding all eye contact. 

“Love—“ 

“Don’t love me.” 

Liam was taken aback, “What?” 

There was a pause in the room, half of the lights were off while the other half were on, the air was cold but it was thick and extremely unforgiving in terms of trying to quiet a breath. “We should end this.” 

“What?” Liam repeated, standing still as Louis moved a couple steps back. “Wait, Louis—“

“No, please stop,” Louis had tears streaming down his face. “I’m afraid I’ve wasted your time, I’m sorry, Li.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Liam’s voice grew louder, and it made Louis flinch and turn away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to raise my voice.” 

“Li, this can’t happen between us, and I don’t want to—I don’t want to string you along.” Louis said stupidly, like he couldn’t even understand himself. It didn’t seem like Liam did either, so he stabbed the final knife into the tree. “I’m a beta, and I don’t love you.” 

Liam finally moved, and it was to only turn in the other direction with his hands on the back of his head. “Louis, I…” His words faltered. 

“Plea—please leave.” Louis squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Okay.” He almost didn’t hear it. 

He had never felt so small in his entire life. 

“We’ve been together for fifteen years.” Liam was crying. 

“Eight months, actually,” Louis knew he was either going to pass out or faint. “And honestly, Li, it was time I did it.” 

“Fuck,” Liam wiped his face. “Okay then. Goodbye.” He walked forwards and Louis felt like he was ready to explode, he squeezed him so tight it was like it’d be the last time. But then, Louis felt his chin being tilted to the side. 

“Li?” Louis asked timidly, wondering where to put his hands. “What’re you—Ah!” He screamed as Liam bit down on his neck, not a mating bite, but one an alpha would give to their omega for being bad. Up until now, Liam had never done that before, and it hurt like a motherfucker. “Li!” 

Liam finally shoved him away, panting with his eyes silver and spider webbed. He looked at Louis one last time before running out of the house. 

Louis put a hand to his neck and felt for the damage, whimpering when it stung under his fingertips. “Fuck.” He could hear Zayn stumbling around upstairs, so he wiped his neck off with his sweater before bounding up the staircase, nearly falling flat on his face. 

“Lou,” Zayn was dancing, spinning around on demi-pointe with his chin lifted to the sky. “I love dancing.” 

“Yeah, you did,” Louis sighed, his entire body shaking. “We loved a lot of things,” He walked until Zayn’s body bumped into his, and together they fell backwards onto the bed. “We should sleep, okay?” 

“What happened to your neck?” 

“Nothing, really. Close your eyes, Zaynie,” Louis sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “We can dance in the morning, like we used to.” 

“Okay.” 

* * *

“Will you move in with me?” Niall asked, releasing his fist to show Charlie a set of keys dangling from his finger. “Please, I dunno what I’ll do if you say no.” 

“Excuse me sir, I’m working,” Was all Charlie could say to him, lightly walking Niall backwards into the dressing room. “Fuck.” 

“Yeah, the hell was that?” Anna laughed, pointing to his face. “You guys are getting serious, huh?” 

“He’s my soulmate,” Charlie was suddenly getting hot, so he moved his collar around for some air. “I know that, and I’m sure that he’s pretty sure he knows it too.” 

“So what’s the problem? It’s not like he’s poor. He isn’t even dumb either, so you could be thanking God for your blessings.” Anna clicked her tongue, smiling warmly at a customer walking out the door. 

Charlie felt dizzy, so he sat down. “I thought Noah was my soulmate too.” 

“Noah was a crack addict who grew up in halfway homes all his life.” 

“I thought that was what matched with me; in my league. Maybe I still do,” Charlie looked towards the dressing rooms. “Annie, look at what the world would be wasting if that guy in there actually decided that I was it for him. I don’t want to be responsible—“ 

“Well too fucking bad,” Anna rolled her eyes and pressed her finger to his lips. “The world is here for you to be selfish, because if you aren’t selfish, you can’t get out of here, Charlie. That guy in there is going to pull you out, yank you even, and I say that’s good.”

“I’m okay with who I am,” Charlie retorted, shooing her finger away. “I’m proud of who I am.” 

“Well I’m not,” Anna scoffed at Charlie’s look of surprise. “I’ve known you since you were a kid, Chartreuse Axton—“ 

“You can’t call me that—“ 

“Bitch, I am basically your mother, so shut up and let me speak.” Anna’s gaze narrowed. “You were in all the advanced classes, you sing like an angel, you would tell everyone about your newest weird dream and it’d remind everyone to have dreams. What makes you different from any of those rich white girls up there? I’ll give you a hint,” Anna leaned in close. “You’re better than them. And that’s what Niall’s convinced himself he wants.” 

“Okay,” Charlie nodded slowly. “Shit, alright.” 

“He’s probably shitting his pants in there, the poor sod. Go.” Annie shoved him away, and Charlie gulped, bottom lip uncontrollably trembling as he walked back into the host dressing room. 

“Char?” 

“Ni,” Charlie bit his bottom lip still. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Niall got up to make a grand statement, so Charlie shushed him before he could even inhale. 

“Is this what you want?” He asked. 

Niall nodded with his eyes wide. 

“Am I what you want?” Charlie asked, and his words trembled. “I’m a freak, don’t you think?” 

“Anything but,” Niall protested, and it was cute. 

Charlie looked up at the clock. “My shifts ends in twenty minutes, Christ, you really couldn’t wait, could you?” 

“I can never wait when it comes to you,” Niall shrugged. “And I’ve been waiting all my life, so I figured that’s gotta mean something.” 

“Will you love me even if I change?” Charlie teared up. “There are things I still haven’t told you.” 

“That’s okay,” Niall leaned in to kiss his nose. “People change, even if they end up not becoming the person they expected themselves to be.” 

Charlie kissed him after that. 

* * *

Zayn woke up to a pitch black room, but it smelled like Louis, so he knew that if he rolled over the clock would tell him why it was so dark. 4:36 AM. Got it. 

He sat up, getting whiplash from doing so and immediately moved to hold his head. “Jesus Christ.” 

“Zayn?” Louis was next to him on his right, as they always did when they slept together. Zayn turned around, but he couldn’t see anything. 

He flicked on the lamp before replying, “Hi. Sorry.” 

“S’okay,” Louis’ eyes were closed. “I feel like I caught something, my head hurts and I feel hot.” 

“I have liquid tylenol in my bag,” Zayn sighed, shimmying back down to hold Louis in his arms. “My nose is stuffed too, ‘s been getting kinda chilly lately.” 

“Well, you gotta let go of me so I can get it,” Louis chuckled, easily prying himself out of Zayn’s grasp. “Fuck, go back to bed.” 

“‘Kay.” He mumbled, as he was already drifting back off. 

Louis sighed, slipping his feet into his slippers and trudging around his room, reaching towards Zayn’s pile of clothing that he at some point ripped off of his person. He kneeled down and a sudden rush overtook his head, the kind that makes you fall back a tad. He shook it off and focused on getting the medicine. “Zee, where is it?” 

“It’s in a dropper bottle, can’t bring lots of things with labels on ‘em because bitches will try and steal ‘em.”

“I see.” Louis found two cobalt blue bottles, inspecting both and even getting a whiff as if he would be able to recognize them by doing so. “There are two here.” 

“It’s the blue one.” 

“Both are blue.” 

Zayn didn’t answer after that, was totally dead asleep. Louis groaned when another headrush passed by, and decided that one bottle looked much bluer than the other, so with a heavy hand he dripped the medicine onto his tongue with the built in pipette. Once he swallowed it down and scraped his tongue around, he put the bottle on the nightstand and turned the lamp off, snuggling back into his friend. 

Five minutes later, he woke up again, feeling fidgety and out of place. He looked around the room and nothing was quite right where it should be, so he spontaneously and inexplicably moved some furniture around, rolling up the carpet and stuffing into the closet. It was then that he decided he was cold, so he reached out for the best smelling jumper he could find and slipped it over his head. It was way too big, but Louis couldn’t find it within himself to care. 

He stumbled downstairs, where he poured himself a glass of water and sank down onto the kitchen floor to drink it. 

He got back up and headed to the walk-in freezer (yes, a walk-in freezer), looking for something that he knew mattered to him, but he couldn’t remember what. 

He got to the end of the room and in the corner there were several bags of ice for when guests would visit and the champagne would naturally need icing. 

That was it. That was what he needed. 

He dragged a 10 kilo bag of ice up the stairs, collapsing half way through when his head spun. When he reached the top, he got hot again and ripped the jumper off, leaving it on the floor as he headed to the bathroom. 

His limbs felt heavy, his bones felt squishy, and his head was heavier than it all. He ripped the bag open with his teeth and dumped all the ice into the bathtub, turning the water on and plopping next to it as it filled up. The ground made his skin feel prickly and sensitive, so he squirmed around in discomfort, until finally the tears that had been welling in his eyes for the last eight months spilled over and soaked his whole face in some kind of sorrow. Or maybe it was sweat, he couldn’t really tell. He locked the door out of habit—little kids had a habit of walking in on him showering—and stripped of all his clothes, dipping his feet into the ice water. 

The next thing he knew, he was sated and only just slightly warm, and as the ceiling got higher above his head, the world went black. 

* * *

Liam had just managed to fall asleep when he got a call, and on instinct he declined it and turned on ‘Do Not Disturb.’ He didn’t even care if it was his mum asking to open the garage or his dad calling to ask if he came back home or if it was…Lou. 

A few minutes later, his phone rang again, which meant that whoever was calling was extremely keen on getting his attention by making double attempts. 

He scuffled to flip his phone over, and it was Zayn. 

“Zaynie?” 

He did not expect for the person on the other side to be in such a panic, “Liam, oh my god, you finally picked up, motherfucker—“ 

“If this is about Lou, we broke up, so I don’t really want to hear it. Sorry.” He hung up. 

Zayn immediately called again, and with a huff, Liam answered. “You  _ fucker _ . I don’t fucking care if you two broke up, because he’s in the fucking bathroom right now and I woke up because there was water spilling out and the door’s locked and I think he took my completely illegal muscle relaxers and he isn’t responding and—“ Zayn choked on himself, sobbing through the phone. “No one is home. He’s been living in this fucking house alone for who knows how long and no one else is picking up, please,” Zayn was hiccuping, gasping and for a second, Liam couldn’t believe what was just said. He snapped back to reality when Zayn spoke again after crying for a second, “Please, Li. I can’t—I can’t do this, I can’t call the cops because there’ll be paps.” 

“I’m coming,” Liam jumped up and his heart was knocking so harshly his whole chest hurt, slipping on his shoes and racing out of his house to the boy next door. 

The boy next door. 

Louis was the boy next door. 

He realized when he got to the gate that Louis hadn’t locked it, and when he got to the door, it was cracked open slightly, so he didn’t even bother to close that as well. 

He could hear Zayn screaming and pounding bloody murder, and Liam felt like he was either going to throw up or pass out, but he did neither. 

At the top of the stairs, Liam recognized his hoodie on the floor, picking it up and remembering that one time Louis took it and never gave it back. 

“Liam,” Zayn was sobbing and on the floor with his body pressed against the wall, his hands were red and bleeding slightly from all the grievance he caused to the door. “Oh my god, no, no,” 

“Fuck,” was the first thing Liam said as he pushed Zayn out of the door and slammed his entire body into it, once, twice, and the third time did it, the bathtub tap was still on and water immediately soaked through his shoes to his socks. “Lou,” 

He dragged Louis’ body out of the tub, laying him on the floor and immediately pressing his hands down onto his chest. He wasn’t moving and nothing felt real, bent over the love of his life. It wasn’t until there was no jolt of movement that Liam began to cry, all his words escaped him except  _ Lou Lou Lou Lou Lou Lou Lou—  _

Louis’ eyes finally opened and he coughed, lurching upwards and hacking water out of his mouth. There was a cry of relief in the background from Zayn, and someone was there, holding him in his arms. “Li,” 

There was no response, so with blurred vision he reached an arm up to touch his face. He didn’t make it that far, and Liam released a choked sob like he’d been punched. 

“I’m sorry,” Liam said, and Louis had no idea why he was saying that. “I love you, I’m sorry.” 

“I got hot, ‘s all,” Louis croaked, and Zayn was hysterical, in a fit on the floor. “Cold bath.” 

“Fuck,” Liam swore, and Louis quickly realized it was the first time he’d ever seen him cry. It hurt to be the reason that he even was. “Lou,” 

“I love you too,” Louis felt tired, but tried to stay awake when Liam moved him so that he was even closer. “I’m hot.” 

“I know—what?” Liam frowned, spinning his head around to give Zayn a look. “How? You-you—you were in ice water.” He felt all around his body. “What the fuck?” 

“S’hot,” Louis whined, and that’s when it hit him right in the face. 

“Zayn, get out. Call his parents and get out, go home,” Liam growled, and poor baby whimpered and ran out of the room. “Louis, look at me, love,” He kissed his forehead, which was indeed burning under his lips. “You’re in heat, okay? I need you to stay with me.” 

“No I’m not,” Louis shook his head like he was confused, but Liam stripped the both of them down and picked him up while wrapped in a towel, stumbling back into the bedroom. 

“Baby,” His voice was so gentle and soft, Louis wanted to cry. “Baby, it’s alright, love. S’alright, I know.” 

He was on the bed, his skin sensitive and the lights too bright. “Can you move around, love?” 

Louis nodded, and twiddled his fingers and toes as proof. “I didn’t take liquid tylenol, did I?” 

“You roofied yourself, more like. Why Zayn had a bottle of muscle relaxers is beyond me, but whatever.” Liam kissed him again, and this time, Louis groaned and leaned for more. 

“Need you,” Louis whimpered, a gush of slick pouring out of him. The sensation made both of them jump, and Liam’s vision went white when he was hit with the scent. “Li, oh my god,” 

“Do you want to do this, baby? We don’t have to, can make the doctor come ‘round right now—“ 

“Are you fucking shitting me?!” Louis screeched and yanked Liam’s head down. “Oh my god, I feel so fucking needy—“

“Shit, I haven’t heard you talk like that in months,” Liam choked out in between kisses, hand instinctively moving lower on Louis’ body. “Shit, you smell so fucking good.” 

“You’re telling me?” Louis growled, taking Liam’s other hand and shoving it in his mouth to suck. His eyes fluttered shut when Liam finally found the courage to finger at his hole, which was actually pouring slick, and gently press one inside. Louis popped off his fingers and whined, wet hair stuck to his forehead. “Oh my god, please fuck me with your big fat dick—“ 

“Okay, okay, jesus,” Liam moved so that they were closer. “But Lou, are you sure? I don’t want to do anything that you’ll regret, if there’s someone else you’d rather have here with you…” 

Louis stared at him blankly. “Are you fucking stupid?” 

“Hm?” Liam squeaked, and Louis thrashed about, wanting his fingers deeper. 

“This,” Louis pointed to his whole body and his flushed face, “Works out for me. And I love you.” 

“Oh-okay,” Liam smiled, a bit frightened if he was to be honest. “Do you have a heat kit?” 

Louis shook his head, “No, I threw it out.” 

“Ah.” 

“Li, can you please fuck me? I need it, like, so bad, it hurts, baby please—“ 

“Okay,” Liam came closer again, stretching his fingers inside of him and pumping them in and out, all the while dragging his nose along his body to drink in Louis. “What do you want, baby?” 

Louis was getting into the thick of it, his pupils becoming more dilated as the coherence left his brain. The world was getting fuzzy and he knew nothing else except that Liam was there and he loved Liam and Liam had a big fat cock and  _ Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam _ — 

Liam realized this, leaning over Louis’ face to inspect his face. “Baby, you still with me?” 

Louis gave a pained whimper in response, he sounded scared. 

“Okay, I have you, s’alright, love,” Liam cooed, bending down over him to lift his knees into the air whilst taking his fingers out, which only seemed to upset him more. “Gonna knot you, yeah? That’s what you need,” He babbled to himself, finally giving his own raging hard-on some attention. 

“Kisses,” Louis managed to make out, and Liam found that impressive. “Kisses.” He sounded more adamant the second time. 

“Okay, baby.” Liam complied, softly meshing their lips together as he lined up with Louis’ hole, this terrifying experience being culminated with the fact that  _ this _ was the first time they were to have real sex together, and it wasn’t clear whether Louis was high on heat or drugs, and their relationship status was still a blur, but all that faded when the tight heat squeezed around him as he pushed forwards, Louis letting out a strangled cry of relief. 

“Li,” Was all he could say for the next few minutes, on the cusp of an orgasm whilst Liam fucked him through it, and it was all so confusing, but one thing was clear. 

They were exactly where they were meant to be, because it was strange and loud and felt wonderful, and soon, the sun would rise, and it’d be over before nightfall. 

Louis couldn’t wait, felt he was allowed to love him again. 

* * *

Zayn didn’t stumble home until 8 AM, he stopped by the park first, throwing up under a random tree and drunkenly circling the perimeter for a few hours with his hands still scratched up and his head somewhere on a dark cloud. 

“You got it, chief,” He murmured to himself, remembering something blurred and long ago. “I’ll fix it, chief. I’ll spin for you, chief. I’ll spin for him, chief. I love ya, chief. Okay, okay.” 

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” A kind woman asked him, wearing ridiculously expensive athleisure wear on an obvious attempt to lose weight by strolling around every morning. “Say, aren’t you Trisha’s son?”

“I’m dancing, chief.” Zayn said to her, now beginning to turn around in circles. “I love dancing.” 

“Okay, sweetie,” The woman pulled her phone out, and Zayn slapped it out of her hand. She gasped, taking a few steps back. “Zayn?” 

“No phones allowed during rehearsal.” 

“Oh god, he’s gone insane.” She snatched it back up and jogged a few steps away, immediately calling Trisha with eyes fixed on the boy. 

“Are you calling the police?” A voice made her jump, turning her back to Zayn to face the source. “Please don’t call the police.” 

“Oh no, I know better than that,” She shushed him, concentrated on the ringing. “Sorry, who’re you? Haven’t seen you ‘round.” 

“My name’s Harry. I was on the way to the Maliks’ house actually, because Zayn’s mom invited me over for breakfast.” 

“You’re American?” The woman cocked her head to the side. “Interesting.” 

“How so?” Harry cocked  _ his _ head to the side. 

“Oh, nevermind.” She waved it off, and they both turned to Zayn, who was now on the floor on his side. 

“I can—I can take him home,” Harry said softly, and she shook her head. 

“He can get a little aggro when he’s like this, I would wait until his dad came to calm him down.” 

Harry frowned, “He’s like this a lot?” 

“Well, I’ve only ever seen him once or twice, and it’s just so sad. He’s traumatized, you see, on a cocktail of medication. Poor boy has too many issues to work through and no one’s really been able to help him,” She clicked her tongue and sighed, “It’s a pity, he was such a sweet boy.” 

“He still is,” Harry said calmly, taking off his coat and walking forwards. For some reason, she felt no impulse to stop him. The first thing he did was immediately kneel down onto the grass next to Zayn, who was kicking the air in soft circles whilst on his back. “Whatcha doing?” 

“I’m in rehearsal,” 

“Well, that’s obvious, but what are you  _ doing _ ?” Harry giggled, shifting closer. “Synchronized swimming?” 

“I’m just dancing,” Zayn shook his head with his eyes trained to the sky. “I love to dance.” 

“I thought you only loved books,” 

“I hate books.” 

Harry opened his mouth, but closed it again and his eyes fluttered a few times. “When does rehearsal end?” 

“In a few minutes, you mustn’t be distractin’ me,” Zayn slurred, sitting upwards. 

“What will you do when rehearsal ends?” Harry asked, gently covering Zayn’s back with his coat. Strangely, he was wet from head to toe, and his lips were blue. 

Zayn giggled at him like he was silly, “I’m to go home, of course.” 

“Ah,” Harry finally lurched forwards to catch him before he fell backwards and hit his head, holding him close to his chest. “Honey, it’s really dangerous for you to have been wandering alone at night. What’d you take?” 

By then, the woman contacted Trisha and left. Harry lifted Zayn into his arms, the latter immediately cradling himself closer to his chest. “Mixed some stuff.” 

“I see,” Harry whispered, and kissed the side of his head without thinking. “Let’s take you home, babe. Where’s home?” 

“Next to Louis’ house,” Zayn sniffled, and began to cry into Harry’s shirt. “What do you think happens when you drown?” 

“Uh,” Harry was still trying to decrypt the streets based off the address Trisha had texted him a while ago. “Why the sudden topic of drowning?” 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning,” Zayn stared up at the sky. “What better way to go than by the thing you were already doing?” 

“Are you off your medication?” Harry found the street. 

“Everyone always asks me that. No one asks about what I’m up to, or what I want to do, or what I want.” 

“Sorry,” Harry looked down at him, his heart panging at that sweet face. “This your house? It’s nice.” 

“Thank you,” Zayn smiled with his eyes closed. Harry went up to the gate and maneuvered Zayn around so that he could press the buzzer, staring right into the camera. 

“Yes?” 

“Hi, I’m Harry, I was invited over—“

“The Maliks will not be taking any guests at this time, our sincerest apologies.” 

“But I picked up their son, he’d better go to bed, no?” Harry’s eyes fluttered. A pause flung itself through the silence before the intercom buzzed again. 

“Approved.” 

The gate opened, and Zayn squirmed like he recognized it. As Harry carried him up the stairs to the front door, it opened, Trish and Yaser running around to meet them halfway. 

“Oh my god, Zayn—“ They cried, arms outstretched to take Zayn from Harry’s arms. “Thank you so much, oh my god—come in, come in.” 

Multiple maids and butlers were waiting for them inside, all clamoring behind the parents up the staircase. It was a mere ten seconds before Harry was left alone, insecure to even take a single step on the loud marble flooring. 

“You’re Harry, aren’t you?” A young girl came from one of the rooms, eyes fixed on Harry and his presence. “I’m Safaa, Zayn’s sister.” 

“Hiya,” He shook her small hand. 

“Thank you for bringing bhaiya home,” She said very politely. 

“You’re welcome. Is he like this a lot?” 

“Not as much as he used to. It’s not his fault,” Safaa shook her head, and Harry smiled. “He doesn’t mean to.” 

“Yeah, I figured,” Harry kneeled down to match her eye level. “How old are you?” 

“I’m thirteen,” She said proudly, and Harry smiled wider. He was about to say something more when a sharp scream punctuated the air, more noises of clamoring and distress coming from above. “I think he’s in the vents again.” 

Harry held out his hand, “Should we go up together?” 

“Okay.” They went up the stairs solemnly, Harry greeting multiple of the help as they shimmied through to the room. Trisha and Yaser were kneeled in front of a rectangular cavity in the wall, the grate keeping it closed was tossed on the floor. 

“Zayn, please,” Yaser begged, looking even more distressed when he realized Harry was there. “Jaan,” 

“May I try?” Harry asked softly, and Trisha just nodded, covering her face with her hands and reaching out to yank Safaa to her chest. Harry got on the floor and inspected the cavity, which was much too narrow for his shoulders. “Zayn?” 

The sniffling stopped, “Ha-Harry?” 

“Yeah dude, it’s me,” Harry sighed, happy that Zayn was starting to get pieces of his head back. “I can’t get in there, man, so you’re going to have to come to me.” 

Zayn sighed back, “I can’t.” 

“What happened?” Harry looked over and quietly motioned for everyone to leave the room. “I made everyone leave, dude, it’s just you and me here.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“I wouldn’t ever lie to you.” 

Eventually, Zayn shimmied to where he was in sight, and his face relaxed in a state of relief when he saw Harry looking back at him. “It is you.” 

“Yeah, it’s me. Won’t you come out, babe?” Harry asked softly, Zayn tipped his head back and let it fall onto the metal. “What happened?” 

“Louis almost died,” Zayn choked out, “Because of me.” 

“I’m positive that’s not what happened,” Harry gave him a look. 

“I’m just so…not here,” Zayn lifted his hand to look at his fingers dancing about. “I’m tired.” 

“I bet, you did a lot of dancing earlier,” 

“I was dancing?” Zayn turned his head and bam, right in his face, Harry’s eyes looking right into his. “Where was I?” 

“You were in rehearsal,” Harry tried, and Zayn laughed to himself. “You looked beautiful.” 

“Piss off,” He sniffled. “I’m a fucking mess.” 

“How come you don’t dance anymore?” 

Zayn didn’t answer him. 

“Okay, are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” 

Zayn answered him by turning his head and looking at him weird. “What?” 

“I asked if you were hungry,” Harry repeated plainly. “What do you want?” 

Zayn blinked. “A cheese toastie.” 

“A grilled cheese?” 

“What?” They asked in unison, then laughed quietly. 

“Jesus, how did you even get in there?” Harry looked around the vent, whistling. It sounded nice. 

“Used to be a lot easier,” Zayn turned on his side so he could look at Harry easily. “But now I just have to stay skinny, so that you know, I have a place to hide.” 

Harry laid down as well, head facing Zayn’s. “You don’t need to hide, not if you have something you want.”

“I don’t want anything.” 

“But earlier, you told me that no one asks you if you want anything, so how would you know?” Harry raised his eyebrows comically just to make Zayn giggle. “What is it you want, Zayn?” 

“I think I’d like…” 

“You think?” 

Zayn squinted at him. “I  _ know _ I’d like to stop mixing shit.” 

“Well, that’s good. What else?” 

“I’m supposed to want more?” Zayn asked incredulously, surprising himself that he was truly stumped. 

Harry shrugged, “You can have everything in the entire world, Zayn. There has to be more.” 

“I mean,” Zayn snorted, “It sounds stupid, but I want to be able to meet people who don’t want to use me.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “That’s not stupid at all. I wanted that too,” 

“Yeah?” Zayn was getting sleepy. “I think I need a bath.” 

“You’ll probably need someone to help you,” Harry told him honestly, “You couldn’t even stand up by yourself earlier.” 

“Okay,” Zayn smiled at him. “Can you help me?” 

Harry’s cheeks flamed, “Uh—me? Are you sure you don’t want like, uh, fuckin’...” 

“Laura or Maeve? They’d die if they saw me naked, same with everyone else,” Zayn shook his head, and so Harry blushed harder. “You look red.” 

“I am red,” Harry admitted, then stretched an arm out towards him. “Tell you what, you come out, we can scrub each other’s backs, I’ll make you a grilled cheese, we can drink hot chocolate and watch movies and everything you want to do, even if you can’t think of things right now.” 

Zayn felt a tear drip down the side of his face onto his temple. “Ooh.” 

“Enticing, aren’t I?” 

He laughed, “Yeah, you are. You’ve no idea.” 

Then Harry looked at him again with that same look, like he’d discovered something rare, and Zayn’s heart began to race a thousand beats per second, he could feel the heat crawling up behind his eyes, his entire body begging him to reach out and— 

“You took my hand, you actually—fuck, okay,” Harry gently dragged Zayn out, hyperventialting loudly as he clutched Zayn close to his chest. “Fuck, thank you, thank you,” 

“Weirdo,” Zayn mumbled, and Harry couldn’t help but kiss his head. “I might have to go to rehab again.” 

Harry snorted, “Yeah, might have to.” 

Zayn smiled as he leaned down to kiss his forehead again. “This feels awfully right.” 

Harry smiled against his skin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Severely unedited, leave me a note on what you think!   
-j


	5. and the paradise birds said unto me, “save thy dodo”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **You**  
**Touch me**  
**I hear the sound**  
**Of mandolins**  
**You**  
**Kiss me**  
**With your kiss**  
**My life begins**  
-david bowie, wild is the wind

“Niall, this looks really expensive,” Charlie fidgeted, spinning around in the flat to look out the glass walls. “Where are we?” 

Niall set his keys down and tapped his fingers against the countertop, looking awfully smug with himself. “This is the nicer part of town, I guess you could say. Before you say anything, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve bought it already.” 

Charlie raised an eyebrow, “You don’t think we’re going too fast?” 

Niall’s face dropped, “Do you?” 

Charlie’s eyes widened and he sputtered, “I mean, I don’t think so, I was just wondering if you did—“ 

“Oh, I see, well I don’t—“ 

“Okay.” 

They looked at each other for a few more seconds before joining hands and pressing their noses together, giggling. “Do you like it?” 

“I like it,” Charlie nodded, arms reaching around to hug Niall closer. “Thank you.” 

“I am besotted by you, Char. Absolutely lovestruck, I can never be the same again,” Niall said in a sing-song tone. “You’ve changed me quite a bit. Kiss me,”

Charlie laughed in response, tugging Niall’s head downwards to meet their lips. The feeling was soft, and for a moment, Charlie felt that he belonged on the ground underneath his feet, Niall having pulled him down from floating in the sky. 

There was nothing wrong about floating in the sky, but carrying many things with you is what makes travel burdensome. His books, his possessions, his family, his dignity all carried too much weight to outweigh the incentive of staying alive. 

Niall was just so good to him; he was so good. 

* * *

“What is your favorite food?” Harry asked, having shifted them to the bed, Zayn still cuddling into his arms. “I want to know.” 

“I don’t think I have a favorite food,” Zayn shrugged, twirling a lock of Harry’s hair around his finger. “I don’t get crazy about it.” 

“You are indeed English,” Harry sighed, “It’s really sad you don’t know the joys of Los Angeles.” 

Zayn didn’t say anything to that for a few moments. But then, “What’s the real reason you left? I know it has to do with money and stuff, but you always talk about L.A like there’s no place you’d rather be.” 

Harry swallowed, looking down at Zayn and kissing the hand that was playing with his hair. “I just wanted to escape. I didn’t know how; I kept telling myself that I’d never be fearless enough to ask for it. It felt like I didn’t have to ask when the opportunity arose to meet a certain eligible omega who was just _ dying _ to meet me,” Zayn grumbled in reaction. “Then when I got here, I was really surprised to find that I wasn’t so scared after all. I felt complete, like a certain part of me was awoken.” 

Zayn pressed his ear to Harry’s chest to hear his heartbeat, “Harry, your heart’s beating fast.” 

“I know,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Now I get to ask a question.” 

“I’m nervous,” Zayn looked even more comfortable when Harry tucked his legs on his arms and held him closer, as though the pressure of their bodies pressing together was soothing. “Are you going to ask me about the drugs?”

“How come you don’t dance anymore?” Harry brushed the hair out of his face. 

“Ah, so it is about the drugs.” 

“Dancing is a drug?” Harry cocked his head to the side, but Zayn shook his head. 

“No, dancing is worse,” He looked like he was about to cry, “And I never want to do it ever again, I—I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Babe, I’ve noticed you shut down a lot,” Harry said softly while a hand reached behind Zayn, too closely to his omega spot. He yelped and propelled himself away, startling Harry as well. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I was just getting my phone. I would—I would never do that—“ 

“I know, it’s just...Yeah.” Zayn was beginning to shake, eyes darting back and forth. “What’s, what’s your favorite food?” 

Harry sighed in ambiguous relief, softly rubbing Zayn’s forearm with his thumb. “I love burgers.” 

“Like Byron?” 

“Oh god no, like Shake Shack, In-N-Out,” 

“Ininout?” Zayn asked, and Harry laughed again, heartily and genuinely. “Is that an L.A thing?” 

“Kind of, yeah,” Harry nodded. “They sell burgers for $3, which would be two pounds here. Amazing. There’s one next to the airport, so every time I come back I always grab food for…” He realized he was going off onto a crazed tangent, looking back down at Zayn. 

Zayn’s eyes were sparkling at him, the only real way to describe it. Big and shiny and curious, but at the same time, still a little high and in another world. 

It was safe to say that Harry’s amount of interest had grown a considerable amount in that moment, “Grab food for who?” 

“Huh? Oh,“ Harry shook himself out of the trance, “For my me and my sister.” 

“My sister and me,” Zayn corrected, his body was so delicate and settled comfortably into Harry’s lap, and if he was being honest, his interest in Harry had grown from what was a faint pen dot to that of an ink blot...maybe an entire ink bottle spill. 

“Your heart’s beating fast, I can feel it.” Harry said to him, and Zayn almost didn’t catch it past the sound of his chest beating up through his face. 

“Yeah?” He sputtered, putting a hand on his own chest. “Is it really?” 

Harry placed a large hand on his sternum, the warmth of it seeping through Zayn’s shirt. “Yeah, really.” 

Well, fuck. 

* * *

Zayn remembered one time when he was at Louis’ house and Louis began to talk about how he may be in love with Liam, their mutual best friend of over a decade, Zayn asked him what was apparently a silly question. 

_ “How do you know when you’re in love?” He asked, and he could clearly recall the look on Louis’ face as he thought hard about an answer. _

_ “Because you can’t think about much else, really. If you go to a strip club and don’t feel any type of way and all you can think about is that one person, then you know you’re in love.” _

_ “How am I supposed to know how to not “feel any type of way” if I’ve never even had sex yet?” Zayn looked down at his crotch and Louis hurriedly lifted his chin back up. _

_ “God, okay. Maybe that way won’t work for you until you’ve done some more stuff yet,” Louis groaned, feeling overwhelmed. “Maybe you’ll realize you’re in love when someone who’s an expert at it tells you that you are.” _

_ “Maybe,” Zayn closed an eye when Louis caressed his face. “But I’m not going to find an expert on this street, am I?” _

_ “Why?” Louis raised an eyebrow. “Have you met someone?” _

_ Zayn made a face at him, “God no. I can’t “people,” Lou, you know this.” _

_ “Quite right.” _

Now, about two years later, Zayn is locked in his room by himself, his parents having discussed the prospect of rehab again, which he all willingly agreed to. He felt sick, and decided that maybe drugs weren’t really a thing you’d want to be addicted to. 

Harry left an hour ago, he helped wash Zayn’s hair and fall asleep, let him bury his face into his neck in a way of comfort. 

But was he in love? He couldn’t really tell. 

He fell backwards onto the mattress and sighed, staring at the ceiling. He had felt such contempt towards Harry for a long while, but within a week this man was able to knock down all these different walls. A man who was able to approach Zayn in a way he’s never been approached before, and Zayn couldn’t understand it. 

He was thinking about what Louis said to him those two or some years ago, but then crinkled his nose when he remembered that he probably shouldn’t be taking love advice from someone who didn’t confess to their soulmate for a good fifteen years. 

But there was another thing. Zayn quickly sat up on his bed and turned his torso ‘round, eyes darting towards the drawer of his nightstand. 

_ “I’ve been to this strip club before, well, it’s not really a strip club. It’s not a brothel either. The ‘birds’ there are nice.” _

_ “‘Birds?’” _

_ “Yeah…if you ever go, which I doubt you will, you’ll find out what that means. Take this card, don’t tell Liam I gave it to you. Swear.” _

_ “I swear.” _

The memory flashed away as quickly as it came, Zayn’s fixated gaze on the nightstand broke when he leaped up and headed towards it. He let out a shaky sigh, pulling the drawer out and sifting through the miscellaneous items have been collecting in there for a while. 

Then he found it, the _ Advantage _ business card, with a single phone number pressed on the front with the caption “By private referral only.” 

He bit his lip, wondering if he’d regret this, but in a confident haze he found himself pressing the numbers into his phone with the call button at the end. 

“Hello?” 

Zayn gulped, “Hello. Is this the...Advantage?” 

A woman’s voice demonstrated the dialogue, “Yes, it is. Please state the member that referred you to our establishment.” 

“Louis Tomlinson.” 

Zayn could hear typing, then, “Ah. Yes, Mr. Tomlinson. So your name is?” 

“Zayn Malik,” He squeaked out weakly, “My name is Zayn Malik.” 

Her voice suddenly became a lot lighter, “Well, now that I’ve confirmed you, how can I help you?” 

“Are there any love experts there?” 

A moment of silence went through the phones, and for a second, Zayn didn’t understand why his connection wasn’t working. In actuality, Anna was laughing. 

“Uh, yes, dear, I guess you could say that we do have a lot of love experts here,” She said through a smile, “How old are you, love?” 

“Twenty,” Zayn said it like he wasn’t sure. 

“Are you really twenty?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Zayn nodded as if she could see. “I can provide identification.” 

Anna hummed, “For when would you like to set up an appointment? We’re not open yet.” 

“Do you take walk-ins?” His voice was small. “I just need some advice.” 

“I guess we could take a walk-in just this once. Our rates are £75 an hour, £40 for half an hour. We open at five. Please bring identification as we have a bar here and whatever you do, do not make our establishment public. I’ll hand you a waiver when you arrive.” 

“O-okay,” Zayn nodded again. “Thank you.” 

Anna tried to resist cooing at the voice across the phone, “No, love, thank _ you _.” She hung up the phone, 

chuckling to herself. 

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a while. Who was it?” 

“This little baby,” Anna continued to chuckle, “And you’re late. Again.” 

“I’m sorry, Niall and I just moved in,” Charlie apologized, kicking his shoes off to quickly change. “I’ll get the hang of it soon, I swear.” 

“Gonna become his housewife soon, then?” She raised a perfect eyebrow, and Charlie went red. 

“No, are you kidding? I’d never; I’d get so bored.” Charlie rubbed his face down with a wet cloth as he simultaneously slipped into his tight jeans. 

“Well anyways, when the precious baby gets here, I want you to take them, so leave your opening open.” 

“But Matthew’s—“ 

“Oh, fuck Matthew. Who cares about him?” Anna waved him off. “After all, I’ve heard Malik money smells like perfume.” 

Charlie’s eyes widened. “A Malik? Oh shit, is it the super hot older one—“ 

“You’ll see, now go and fuckin’ fix your beat face, sunshine.” 

* * *

Harry skipped his way back to his god-grandmother’s house, excitedly kicking random stones like a child on the well-lit streets. There was nothing else to kick, the trash was cleaned on a daily basis in this part of town. 

Zayn smelled so good, it was fucking insane. It feels like something had reached past Harry’s eyes and hydrated them with honey, his entire body getting a shiver just thinking about it. 

It was a real shame that Zayn had to be locked up in his room to keep him from going out and entertaining his habit again, but on the bright side, the rehab center was only a couple streets away anyways. Harry could wait. He was the most patient person he knew. 

The whole street and cross streets of the neighborhood housed some of the most affluent in London, judging by the multiple security guards he waved hello to as he walked past a multitude of large houses. He thought he should maybe carry dog treats around to give to the security dogs who were hard at work. 

He took the longest way home, basically, even as the sun began threatening to fall and the wind was picking up just a little. 

He was an alpha, there was no way he’d ever be in any danger walking around in the dark by himself. After all, he had so much to think about; Zayn, Zayn? Zayn. 

Perhaps it was an hour before Harry circled back to where he started, calmly passing through when he heard a loud crash. “Oh, shit.” 

He ran towards the sound, towards the house that looked awfully familiar, peeping through the gate to see what’s happened. 

Zayn was on the middle floor roof, trying to sneak out of his room by grabbing onto the tree right next to it. He had dropped a sheet of metal that was hanging off the side of the roof and it made that offensive sound. 

“Zayn?” 

The sound startled him, nearly losing grip of the branches, but he collected himself again and looked around in a panic. “He...Hello?” 

“It’s Harry, what’re you doin’ up there?” He asked, and Zayn’s face was so clearly visible, the ‘fuck’ he mouthed as well. “Are you trying to escape?”

“I’m going to—“ His words were cut off when he slipped off the branch, nearly tumbling down the side of the trunk if it weren’t for his quick reflexes in grabbing the tree. “Shit.” 

“Do you need help?” Harry asked, a smile growing on his face. “How can I help?” 

Zayn’s heavy breathing evidently told him ‘please fuck off,’ but Harry’s worry over Zayn falling and breaking his neck overshadowed his politeness. “Well, I mean…” 

“You mean…?” Harry asked, knowing he was being a little shit. 

“Could you help me down?” 

“Why yes, I can.” Harry laughed, and Zayn’s face became an impossible shade of red. “Actually, I can’t, because there is no way I can get through this gate.” 

“If you look to your right there should be a part of the gate that’s broken.” Zayn informed him, looking quite upset with his failure to complete his mission. 

“Ah, I see!” Harry cheerfully exclaimed, removing the broken part disguising the gate’s failure and slipping through to the yard. “What was so urgent that it compelled you to break out of your window?” 

“I uh, have to see someone,” Zayn said, because it wasn’t necessarily a lie, it was just he couldn’t answer if—

“Oh, who?” 

Zayn cringed, awkwardly maneuvering himself to turn around and wait for Harry to outstretch his arms. “...The Queen.” 

“The Queen?” Harry cocked his head to the side, that same devilish grin that’s never failed to throw Zayn’s sanity to the wind. “You’re meeting the Queen?” 

“I…no, obviously not, you fucker, just trying to make me more embarrassed than I already am,” Zayn huffed, nervously reaching an arm out for Harry. “This tree has grown a considerable amount.” 

“Or perhaps you are less of a risk taker now,” Harry smiled at him, going up on his tiptoes to grab Zayn’s foot and yanked him down. He shrieked, but Harry lightly caught the rest of him, mumbling a sorry when Zayn trembled in his arms. “Well now, if you haven’t already alerted your parents’ security, I suppose we have about thirty seconds to run.” 

“You can’t come with me to see…the Queen,” Zayn wiggled out of Harry’s arms, scampering through the grass and leaping out of the hole in the wall. 

“Who _ are _ you seeing, then?” Harry asked, following him and making sure to put the piece of the gate back. 

Zayn brushed off his clothes. “I dunno.” 

“You didn’t bring a coat,” Harry pointed out, and Zayn quickly looked up to the tree, where his prepared coat was hanging off one of the branches. “It’s getting chilly, you’ll catch a cold.” 

“No I won’t, I’ll be fine.” 

“You’re as thin as a stick, wind must rush through you,” Harry shook his head, taking his own jacket off and draping it over Zayn. “Let me take you to where you need to go.” 

“I can’t take your coat,” Zayn protested, but Harry only smiled. 

“Let me drive you to where you need to go, and I can grab another coat in the process. When do you need to be back by?” 

“They usually check around dinner time,” Zayn mumbled, helplessly taking Harry’s hand when he offered it and walking with him. “Harry,” 

“Yes, darling?” 

All the words Zayn had prepared in his head exploded and his cheeks flamed. “Uh,” 

“My gran’s house is a few streets away. I have a man with a town car.” Harry seemed awfully pleased with himself, but not daring to go farther with their physical contact. 

“Thank you,” Zayn said genuinely, looking up at Harry with his big, shiny eyes. Harry purposefully avoided them, and he wasn’t sure why. It made him feel not too great inside, so he looked away as well. “For washing my hair.” 

“No problem,” Harry ruffled his hair with his free hand, and Zayn thought he might just die here and it’d be fine. “Are you going to tell me who you’re going to meet?” 

“I’m going to a brothel.” 

Harry did not expect that answer. “Oh.” 

“Well, not a brothel, more of a gentlemen’s club.” 

“Oh.” 

“Not even a gentlemen’s club, just an establishment of love experts.” 

“_ Oh _.” Harry’s eyes bugged out of his head, but Zayn was too short to have had an angle at that sight. “You live a very colored life, Zayn Malik.” 

“The most colorful, Harry Styles.” Zayn smiled, liking the way Harry’s hand fit over his, the way he slowed his walking pace just so they would walk side by side. How tall Harry was. How warm Harry was. How—oh, fuck off. 

“We’re here, this is my gran’s estate,” Harry smiled at him, finally making eye contact. “Its back turned to the forest.” 

“It’s very lovely,” Zayn commented, and the alpha ruffled his hair again in response. “Should I wait here?” 

“Yes,” Harry waved to one of the men sitting under the gazebo in the side yard, and he jogged over to them. “Stay here with Jonathan, I’ll go grab a coat.” 

“Alright,” Zayn nervously waved to Jonathan, who politely took his hat off and outstretched his hand. “Oh, no need to do all that…” 

“My father used to work for your father,” Jonathan informed happily. “Took great care of me old man until he retired, even helped me get this job.” 

“Oh, I see,” Zayn smiled, and Jonathan hurriedly led him to the car. “How long have you known Harry’s gran?” 

“For a few years, but I hardly drive her around anywhere, that’s for one of the senior drivers you see over there. I’m in charge of all of her wards.” 

“She has a lot of wards?” Zayn sat down in the backseat. “More than Harry and his sister?” 

“Why, yes. Harry’s mother is one of her wards, Harry’s aunt and her children, as well as multiple children from different parts of the world that now run her empire in their respective countries. It’s a hard thing to be one of Miss Getrude’s kids; they’re always fighting over who gets what when they don’t even see each other for Christmas.” 

_ ‘That’s why Harry lives in America,’ _ Zayn thought to himself. _ ‘His mother runs the American sector.’ _

He was just about to ask another question when they saw Harry run back out of the house, stuffing his wallet and phone into his pants pockets and slipping the long coat over his shoulders. Do you have an address, Zayn?” 

“Ah, yes,” Zayn pulled out the card from his pocket and handed it to Jonathan. “I have an appointment to garner some advice.” 

Jonathan raised his eyebrows at him, but nodded. 

“Is it alright if you put up the partition, Jon?” Harry asked, and it was done. “You okay, Zayn?” 

“Yeah, I was just thinking,” Zayn looked a little sullen. 

_ ‘It was probably good for Harry to meet someone rich just in case Gertrude dies and leaves their family nothing.’ _ He thought, feeling a taste for the pessimistic. 

_ ‘What a horrible way to use their son like that, and use me.’ _

“What’s on your mind?” Harry poked Zayn’s arm. “You’ve gone quiet.” 

Zayn wanted to ask, “Do you think you could fall in love with me? Like, really, really fall in love with me?” But the words never left his mouth. 

“Zayn?” Harry’s thumb brushed over his cheek, and Zayn’s heart bumped again in his chest. “You alright?” 

“I’m alright,” Zayn closed his eyes and nuzzled into Harry’s hand. “I was just thinking about how hard you work.” 

Harry looked at him warmly, “Thanks.” 

* * *

“Li,” Louis whispered, “You awake? Li,” 

“Mm,” Liam mumbled, bringing Louis closer to him. “What’s wrong?” 

“You’ve been sleeping an awful lot.” 

“Well, I just did just fuck you for three days straight,” Liam kissed his forehead with his eyes still closed. “Does that not constitute a rest?” 

“Li?” 

“Yes, baby?” 

Louis shifted in their bed, pulling himself up to get closer to Liam’s ear. “I love you.” 

Liam smiled, “I love you too.” 

“I’m sorry I’ve been too much of a pussy to confront things,” 

“S’alright, because I was a pussy too.” 

“I’m not actually suicidal, it was an accident,” Louis tried again, but Liam groaned and shook his head. “Okay, okay, I won’t talk about it anymore.” 

“I don’t need that image in my head again, Lou, of you dying in my bloody arms,” Liam stuffed his nose into his neck. “Just shush and lay with me.” 

“Alright,” Louis came closer. “Li?” 

Liam sighed, “Yes, baby?” 

“What would happen if I got pregnant?” 

“Well,” 

“Like, would we get married?” Louis poked Liam’s cheek. 

“I don’t see why not, it already feels like we’re married,” Liam mumbled, drifting back to sleep. “We’re too young to be having kids, Lou.” 

“I know, but…I’ve known you too long to not be wanting more,” Louis said to himself, staring right at a knocked out Liam. “I love you.” 

* * *

“You can’t come in.” Zayn said firmly. “It’s by private referral only.” 

“But—“ 

“No, thank you for the lift.” Zayn kissed Harry’s cheek. “Thanks to you, I got here safe.” 

Harry wanted to kiss Zayn’s cheek back, “I don’t mind waiting. How do you suppose you’ll get home?” 

Zayn shrugged, “I’ll figure it out. I’m a lot tougher than I make myself out to be, Harry Styles.” 

“Well, I’m waiting. Jon, turn the car off,” Harry instructed, giving Zayn a look. “Will you be long?” 

“I don’t think so,” Zayn rolled his eyes and tugged Harry’s coat around him tighter, “Don’t worry.” 

“I will worry.” Harry flirted, just to see Zayn blush. 

“Oh, fuck off, will you?” Zayn deflected, huffing and turning around to walk into the building. His sassiness immediately left him when he was surrounded by a powerful scent of perfume and alphas and omegas and what could only be described as _ sin _, a receptionist immediately catching his attention. 

“Hello, Mr. Malik. We’ve been waiting for you. A bird is waiting for you in that booth over there.” The woman whose voice Zayn recognized smiled warmly at him. 

“You don’t need to see my I.D?” 

“Your face and name is your I.D, my love,” Anna smiled, and directed him to the booth. “I hope you feel enlightened.” 

Zayn nodded, nervously tiptoeing around the establishment as multiple ‘birds’ cooed at him, they were all tall and so gorgeous they could rival the gods. Many alphas in clean business suits were sitting in booths with a lovely person either on their lap or draped on their side, alcohol and smoke wafted itself around the air. 

“Hi!” A voice reached out to him, and Zayn turned his head around to see he had met where he needed to go. “I heard there was a Malik, I thought it’d be one of your older sisters.” 

Zayn’s eyes fluttered. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.” 

“No no no, this was a happy surprise. My name is Charlie.” Charlie stood up, a good six inches taller than Zayn and a body so supple and perfect Zayn really did feel like a stick in comparison. 

“Is that your real name?” Zayn asked, shaking his hand and nervously sitting down next to him. Charlie looked a bit astonished, but laughed after a few seconds. 

“You know, it’s the closest thing to my name, I can tell you that.” Charlie booped Zayn’s nose, cooing at how his eyes blinked when he did so. “What can I do for you, sweet thing?” 

“Do you only do the…the…” Zayn’s voice trailed off. “The lap sitting body rubbing alcohol killing thing?” 

Charlie laughed, “No. We can do whatever you want.” 

“I need advice about a guy,” Zayn couldn’t make eye contact with the ethereal person. 

“The guy whose coat you’re wearing?” 

He accidentally made eye contact, “How did you know?” 

Charlie laughed again, it was a really beautiful laugh, “It’s four times too big and smells of an alpha.” 

Zayn looked down and realized it was indeed Harry’s coat he was wearing. “Oh, I see. Well, yeah. Him.” 

“You’re clearly in love with him, baby boy,” Charlie poured him so water from the prepared pitcher. “If you went as far as to sneak over to this part of London at night alone.” 

Zayn shook his head, “He drove me here. Waiting outside.” 

“He is clearly in love with _ you _ too,” Charlie laughed. “This is so adorable, my gosh. You’re so cute, I just want to put you in my pocket and take you home,” He squeezed Zayn’s cheeks. “He drove you here and let you walk into a shoddy club? That’s real trust and love right there.”

“But I’m afraid he’s only gunning for the money,” Zayn let it out, and that’s when Charlie became a bit more serious. “You know?” 

It was like Charlie could directly relate or something, “Yeah, I know. Interesting.” 

“What is?” 

“Seeing it from the other perspective.” Charlie commented vaguely, but got right back to work after spacing out for a few seconds. “Life is too short not to get a little hurt sometimes. Don’t think you’ll be destroyed if you let your guard down, because you can’t; let your guard down. We’re the extremes, right?” Charlie pointed to himself and Zayn. “The extremes of society, we never let our guard down even if we tried. Even if we really, really wanted to. It’s just not how we’re wired. So trust yourself that you can take care of

yourself no matter what, because whether you’re super poor or rich you need to be able to do that.” 

Zayn nodded, but was still confused. 

“Basically, take him out. Ride him, let him spoil you, you spoil him, feel what love is. If it’s all a lie, you’ll be fine. These kinds of lies are the ones that can never kill you, take it from someone who’s been lied more times than months he’s been alive.” Charlie sipped at his whiskey. “It’ll all be fine. Life can’t fuck you over if you already know what it has in store for you.” He said cryptically, as if he was more talking to himself. 

“Alright.” Zayn nodded. “Thank you, that’s made me feel a bit better about things. Do I pay up front?” 

“You can just hand it to me, all the dough we make gets given directly to us.” Charlie smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “By the way, you really shouldn’t have come here.”

“Uh, why…?” Zayn fumbled with his wallet,

handing Charlie a hundred pounds. “Keep the change.” 

Charlie looked at him surprised that he really didn’t know. “Your heat’s starting soon, I could smell you from across the room.” 

“What?” Zayn’s eyes bugged out of his head as he stuffed his nose under his shirt. “Oh, god. Oh god,” 

“Why not let your guy take care of you?” Charlie smiled at him. “Like I said, people like us only really like people that we think we can be safe with. Trust your instincts.” 

“Alright. Thank you, Charlie. Your eyes are very pretty, you must get that a lot. I’ve never seen chartreuse colored eyes before.” 

“Thank you, I suppose I do get that a lot.” 

Zayn scampered away from the booth, past the hallway and out the doors, Charlie not too far behind. 

“He gave me an extra £60,” Charlie shook his head. “Rich people.” 

Anna definitely wasn’t complaining, “Keep £30 and give me £30.” 

Zayn ran out of the Advantage, breathing heavily and spotted Harry’s car across the street. Harry came out and leaned against the car, waving at Zayn. “That was fast.” 

“It needed to be,” Zayn gasped, looking both ways before crossing the street and immediately running into Harry’s arms. “I don’t know the etiquette for this.” 

“Etiquette for what?” Harry asked, then it hit him. “Oh. Jesus Christ, Zayn.” 

“I don’t know what triggered it,” He sobbed, already feeling that familiar panic he gets on the eve of his heat. “It wasn’t supposed to come until next week.” 

“How do you feel?” 

“Fine for now, but I suppose within a few hours it’ll really start.” Zayn didn’t even realize how he was clinging to Harry. “Will you, will you help me?” 

Harry blinked at him. “With what?” 

“Oh my god, you cock, you absolute cock,” Zayn shook him as hard as he could, which wasn’t that hard at all. “Fuck me!” 

“Jesus, babe, you’re becoming very loud and demanding,” Harry reached over and caressed his face. “Let’s talk about this when we get home, yeah? I don’t want you stumbling into your house making a puddle everywhere.” 

“That was mildly sexist of you,” Zayn complained as Harry pushed him into the car. “I need a bed, I need a, a—“ 

“Nest?” Harry asked softly, letting Zayn crawl onto his lap. “What else do you need? A heat kit?” 

“I’m not allowed heat kits,” Zayn just wanted to be close to him. “They interfere with my hormones.” 

Harry sighed, “Baby, I don’t want to do this if I’m going to be taking advantage of you.” 

“You won’t be, I’m completely lucid right now and consenting. So please. Please take care of me.” Zayn begged, not truly understanding he was saying all these things. 

“Are you sure?” Harry forced him to look into his eyes, and Zayn nodded. Harry nodded as well before pulling Zayn into his lips, a large hand cupping Zayn’s jaw and tugging his mouth open dominantly. He gasped and whimpered against Harry, his body instantly reacting to the contact and Zayn felt slick drip out. 

Harry could most obviously smell it, “I thought you had at least an hour.” 

Zayn whined, “It’s not my fault, you’re the one who hugged me and scented me all day and and then you kissed me. Take responsibility.” 

Harry kissed him again, forcing Zayn’s knees to split over his lap. “Don’t worry, babe, I will.” 

Less than a thousand feet away, the Advantage’s loveliest and brightest bird sat at his desk, breathing in a puff from his wax pen while lazily typing out the month’s commissions and business, filing away each and every paper meticulously into a locked cabinet that sat at the corner of Anna’s office. 

This cabinet was locked for two reasons, the first being that it held all of their tax forms, and the second being that within this cabinet was an extensive file on each and every bird that was employed there. 

In a high class establishment like the Advantage, each and every bird was screened for STDs every week. When first employed, they are required to disclose every piece of information about them, including their financial situation, their mental state, how sober they were, what drugs they needed to stay away from, and the past that led them to the club’s doors. Then, and only then, could they be groomed into the most gorgeous girls and boys in all of London; trained, housed, physically worked. 

Chartruese’s file was somewhere in that cabinet. Sometimes, when he opened it up to update certain things, it felt like it was burning through all the metal shelves and whispering at him, telling him all the ways in which he could fail, and why he should just give up now. 

Lately, the only reason stopping him was the fact that Niall was so good to him; he was just so good. 

Along the same vein, in the North corner of London, separated from the Advantage by gates, streets, cars, and wealth, Louis Tomlinson lay in bed, probably going a little bit out of his mind. 

His mental state was something to be determined, but he was very sure that tomorrow morning, before the love of his life woke up, he was going to propose. He didn’t know how he was going to go about doing this, but he was just so sure that he was ready to marry Liam, bear his pups, and form a new pack with him.

Another issue however: a pack cannot be comprised of just one couple. 

Ah, there they were, Zayn and Harry rushing through the south side up back up to the north side, two manipulative, opportunistic, “they should be glad they’re pretty” idiots making out in the back seat of a 2018 Rolls-Royce. 

Life was confusing, and none of it ever made any sense, but it was clear that this would not be the last time that Zayn would come to Charlie for guidance. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!! Love ya smooch smooch  
-j


	6. you bring me closer to god, and i’m an atheist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Modern love walks on by**  
**Modern love gets me to the church on time**  
**Church on time terrifies me**  
**Church on time makes me party**  
**Church on time puts my trust in God and man**  
**God and man no confession**  
**God and man no religion**  
**God and man don't believe in modern love**  
-david bowie, modern love

_ **FEAST ON THIS TERRIBLY WRITTEN SMUT-FEST OF A CHAPTER. ** _

They had started off with fiercely swallowing each other, but it was only for a few glorious minutes before Harry stopped them, putting a hand in between their mouths. Zayn pulled back, extremely confused and flushed, to which Harry responded with a kiss on the forehead. 

“Babe, we can’t be doing this,” Harry apologized, bringing Zayn close to him and tucking his head under his chin. “We gotta get you a heat kit.” 

“Can’t—“ Zayn gasped, mouthing at Harry’s collarbones, “Need you. Really really really need you.” 

Harry groaned, biting his bottom lip so hard it nearly drew blood, trying to stop Zayn from grinding his hips down right on his dick. “Zayn, holy shit,” 

Zayn looked up at him all teary-eyed and pouty, small hands gripping Harry’s shirt in a twisted clench. “Harry,” He complained, “This is your fault.” 

“How?” Harry sputtered, but he knew exactly how. “I mean, yeah, we’ve been literally with each other this whole time and you were on some hard narcotics earlier—well fuck, I guess this really is my fault. Your eyes,” He touched Zayn’s face, who squealed at the contact. “They’re getting all murky.” 

His entire body was trembling, and it wasn’t apparent as to whether or not it was because he was in pain or because he just really, really needed to be fucked. “I’m gonna have Jon grab a heat kit, alright?” 

“How much longer till we get to your house?” Zayn flopped backwards and would’ve hit his head on the partition window if Harry hadn’t yanked him back towards him. 

“Like, twenty minutes,” Harry panicked, looking at his watch and feeling the slick dripping through Zayn’s trousers onto his lap. “Shit, baby, you’re so wet. I’ve never seen someone so wet before,” 

Zayn just wanted a kiss, “I don’t take suppies, remember?” 

Harry bit his lip again, noticing how Jon stepped on the pedal harder when Zayn whined loudly again. “Do you think you can come in nineteen minutes, baby?” 

Zayn nodded desperately, and so Harry flipped them over and sideways, laying Zayn down on the seat and unbuttoning his pants. “I got you, don’t worry.” 

“Yes, yes—“ Zayn arched his back, reaching for Harry with a severe hard-on and no measure of shame. “Harry,” 

“I know, sweetie, I know.” Harry lifted his hips and legs over his lap again, shifting their bodies so that Zayn was now in his lap princess-style. Harry snaked a hand under his neck and back up to his face, stuffing two long fingers into Zayn’s mouth as the other hand pulled down his underwear. 

Zayn protested weakly, but his eyes fluttered back when Harry purposefully hit the back of his throat, which gave him enough time to get a sense of how fucked they were. Zayn was soaking wet, all the clothes were thoroughly ruined and Harry was convinced that half of London could smell him, the thought made him growl and Zayn whined again. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. You need to earn my knot, hm? Suck them like you’d do my cock, yeah? Get them all nice and wet?” Harry cooed filth directly into Zayn’s ear as his other index pushed inside of his hole. “Aw, it’s alright, it’s alright,” 

Zayn squirmed when Harry’s finger brushed over his prostate, tongue still working on the other hand. Harry added a second, then a third, now successfully massaging and pressing on his prostate relentlessly. “No one else do this for you, huh, Zayn?” Harry kissed his forehead and Zayn came, spurting all over his stomach. “Feel good?”

Zayn’s eyes were getting murkier and Harry could tell that he was slowly losing all sort of mental coherence that he had just an hour ago. “Yeah, uh,” Harry gasped when Zayn clenched around his fingers and came again, “Yeah, bet it feels good. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” He pulled his fingers out to kiss him, still working the other digits in and out like the good alpha he was. “Yeah, feel you relaxin’, your body getting ready for my knot, sweetheart?” Harry’s eyes closed in bliss at the sound of Zayn whimpering underneath him, clamping down on his fingers like it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t help but duck down to bite the side of Zayn’s neck, more as a comfort rather than a reprimand, to attempt to keep him aware enough to walk up the stairs. 

But who was he kidding; he was definitely going to have to throw Zayn over his shoulder and run anyways. Zayn was reduced to obscene noises, pushing down onto Harry’s hand and moaning prettily at the feel of his alpha’s teeth in his neck. 

Suddenly, the car jerked to a stop and Harry heard Jonathan run out of the car, probably to buy a heat kit. He immediately became on edge, imagining the disgusting alpha scum outside of the car being able to smell his Zayn in such a vulnerable state. He went back to aggressively massaging and pressing down onto his prostate, milking two more orgasms until Jon came back and threw the heat kit to Harry over the opening partition and promptly closing it back again. 

“Hazza,” Zayn complained, shaking his head at the sight of a heat epi-pen and multiple other tools in the kit for a single omega in heat. “No, no,” 

Harry’s face was drenched in sweat from the sheer self control he’s demonstrated, shifting through the kit with one hand to find ten alpha condoms at the bottom. 

“No,” Zayn whined, “Don’t. Hazza, don’t,” 

“Don’t what, baby?” Harry kissed him again, on the verge of explosion. “Zayn?” 

“You, I want you,” He gasped, knocking the kit out of Harry’s lap and scrambling for his neck. “Hazza, Hazza,” 

“Jesus Christ, you’re so far gone,” Zayn writhed on his lap, chomping down on every bit of Harry’s skin he could find. “It’s a little terrifying,” Harry put a hand on the back of his head and held him close, scenting him in an attempt to get him to stop wriggling. “Zayn.” 

Zayn pushed and pulled at him, not listening to any of the words Harry was saying to him, until finally, 

“Stop,” The alpha timbre ran a chill down his spine and he immediately fell limp against Harry’s chest, whimpering softly as the car turned back onto the main road. “Stay still,” Harry growled into his ear and Zayn couldn’t move, not even as Harry reached back over for the kit and pulled out the standard issue knotting dildo. “Well come on. Don’t make me do any fucking work; split your knees.” 

Zayn complied, tilting his head back onto Harry’s shoulder as he lifted the soles of his feet onto the seats and kept his thighs apart, pushing out another wave of slick at the sound of Harry’s voice. 

Harry kissed his cheeks and temples repeatedly as he adjusted the toy in front of Zayn, keeping him steady. “C’mon babe, do what you need to do.” 

Zayn was about to complain again, but Harry shook his head, “I said don’t make me do any fucking work,” His words made Zayn gulp and reach for the toy himself, feeling a bit scared that he’d upset Harry somehow, but pointed the head to his hole all the same. It was cold and Zayn immediately rejected it, shaking his head and letting go. “Zayn,” Harry’s voice became softer. “Baby, you gotta get what you need,” 

“Need you,” Frustrated, Zayn hit his head on Harry’s shoulder repeatedly. “Don’t want the toy, fuck.” 

Harry tilted Zayn’s face towards him by grabbing his chin and kissed him, not letting up until Zayn released even more slick all over the both of them. “Sweetheart, c’mon. I can’t knot you here.” 

Zayn’s had enough. “Fi—Fine! If you don’t want me, then I’ll just—“ He flopped over to the door and tried opening it, which was an insane thing to do considering that they were speeding through the local roads. Harry obviously pulled him back, covering his face and groaning. 

“Of course I want you, you think I don’t?” Harry grumbled, jaw aching from how hard he’s been clenching it. “I can’t, baby, it’s too soon.” 

“No it’s not,” Zayn retorted, and Harry knew he was right. “Harry, I’ll be scared if you leave, please don’t leave.” 

Harry succumbed, “I won’t.” 

“It’s so scary,” Zayn cried, shivering in Harry’s arms. “Don’t leave, please,” 

“Fuck,” Harry closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Zayn protectively, biting him on the shoulder as an act of closeness. “I won’t, babe.” 

Then Zayn began to murmur a bunch of nonsense, weakly kicking the air. Harry kissed his hair and turned to look at his face. Zayn snapped his eyes open, revealing how cloudy they were, and Harry realized that it was quite literally taking over Zayn’s entire body and mind. Terrifying. 

“We’re almost home, baby,” Harry covered Zayn with the coat he borrowed and continued to kiss him. “Then I’ll take care of you, okay? Formalities be damned, traditional rituals yada yada,” He grabbed all of the alpha condoms and stuffed them into his pocket, leaping out of the car with Zayn in his arms the second Jon stopped in front of the house. 

Harry had never run so fast in his entire life. He kicked open the door, screaming as loud as he could for every alpha and omega to leave the premises, leaping up the entire flights of stairs to the top floor where his room was. Zayn was making such heartbreaking noises against his chest whilst uncontrollably shaking. 

He laid Zayn down and cleared off the textbooks and notebooks on the bed, dumping the condoms as well as ripping all of the soiled clothes between them. 

Zayn’s skin was flushed and his hair was sticking to his head, breathing heavily and sounded so confused every time he opened his eyes again, “Harry?” 

“Is it always this bad, baby?” Harry asked, moving them up further and quickly sheathing his angry red dick with a condom, trying not to knot prematurely from all of the previous stimulus. 

“No, it’s real bad right now,” Zayn blindly reached out for him, like his depth perception was going off, and Harry intertwined their hands for just a moment to bite his shoulder again. “Gonna be good for you.” 

“You’re already so good, baby,” Harry had to squeeze the base of his cock when Zayn suddenly whined, turning over onto his stomach and propping his hips up to present for him. “Yeah, ‘course, sweetheart.” 

He pressed the head to Zayn’s hole, already wet and stretched around him, holding Zayn’s hip and pulling them back as he pushed forward. 

When Zayn’s skin met with his, Zayn clenched, crying as he came again. Harry’s vision went white, but somehow snapped out of it fast enough to pull back and thrust forward gently, picking up a rhythm that had Zayn screaming into the pillow. 

The way his ass bounced on Harry’s cock was mesmerizing, and without realizing he was going harder, forcefully bringing Zayn back onto his pelvis and making the bed shake. “Zayn, Zayn, Zayn,” 

Zayn tried to say something, but his knees went weak before he could, collapsing against the bed at how hard Harry was going. “Oh shit, sorry,” Harry apologized by holding Zayn up and having a hand on the small of his back, bending over and kissing the back of his neck. “You wanna lay down?” 

Zayn nodded, looking at him through teary eyes and maximum bliss strewn across his face. Harry maneuvered them gently, laying Zayn down and draping himself over him until his chest was touching his back. “Does it feel good?” 

Zayn didn’t respond, especially not with the pillow he was biting down on. He released a few noises, an ‘ah’ here and there, but it sounded like he couldn’t even understand what Harry was saying. 

“Uh,” It was hard to think, “Yeah, babe. I bet it feels good, huh?” Harry kissed at his omega spot, and Zayn squealed again. “Just what you need, baby.” 

They rocked for a while, Zayn split open on his big dick and screeching like a banshee whenever Harry lost his grip on the bed and landed deeper. He rut against the bed as Harry kissed his spot, biting on his shoulders and intertwining their hands. 

“Think I’m close, babe,” Harry grunted after a bit, breathing becoming obscene in Zayn’s ear. “You okay?” 

Zayn nodded and turned his head for a kiss, looking fucked stupid. “Hazza,” 

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, the base of his cock beginning to swell and catching against Zayn’s rim. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” 

When he felt Harry’s knot starting to grow, it was almost as if something inside him woke back up in a panic, the light switch turned on in his head. He instinctively tried to move away, whimpering into the sheets every time the knot tugged, making the other boy thoroughly confused. 

“Wait, wait,” Harry stopped, at a painful price, reaching over to touch Zayn’s face. “Zayn?” 

Harry’s voice was so clear, and Zayn relaxed again, feeling more safe than he ever had before. “Hazza, I need it.” 

“Oh, okay,” Harry fluttered his lashes, but then decided to do an inspection by snaking a hand between them to wear they were connected. “Zayn,” 

“Yeah?” Zayn was so ready, the heat bubbling up in his stomach and radiating out of his head. 

“Have you never been knotted before?” 

“Yeah no,” He answered nonchalantly, and Harry did a double take over him, panicking as he didn’t know what to do about the boy his dick was inside of—and it had a mind of its own. “C’mon, Hazza, want it.” 

“Uh, sure you do,” Harry slapped his own forehead, muttering to himself. “Are you sure?” 

“Feel safe,” Zayn reached a hand backward to pull Harry back down. “Please.” 

“Okay,” Harry stammered, kissing Zayn’s spot again, “Just keep breathing, alright? I’ll try to stop if you say so,” He held Zayn’s hips steady. “You’re so good, you’re so good for me.” 

Zayn panicked again for a slight second when his hole stretched around Harry’s cock more, making him feel uncomfortably full and spots appeared in his vision. 

“You’re so good, fuck, you’re perfect,” Harry cooed at Zayn’s tenseness. “Just relax, baby, it’s okay.” 

Zayn closed his eyes and felt himself spill more slick around Harry, his body softly accepting the knot as what he needs. “Yeah, that’s it.” 

They were locked together, Harry still on top of Zayn and panting over his shoulder. Zayn was so satiated his entire head was buzzing, the fog parted and all he could hear and feel was Harry, the pulses inside of him making him whimper in pleasure. 

Once his alpha got too heavy, Zayn complained by kicking at the bed and Harry responded by biting his neck and holding him down for a few more seconds in a wave of primal instinct, delivering gentle kisses when he finally moved them onto their sides. 

Zayn loved the way Harry’s arms immediately draped around him and his head ended up under his chin, feeling so safe and happy beyond comprehension. The anxiety and panic in his heart settled down, which had never happened before in one of his heats, but Zayn didn’t have the mental bandwidth at the moment to question it. 

He just closed his eyes and fell asleep to the feeling of Harry’s chest expanding and contracting against his back.

Even if another alpha, or burglar, or demon, or scary Kraken tried to take Zayn away (because that’s the level of fear that a heat creates), Harry would fend them off. 

* * *

Harry woke up twenty minutes later to find that his knot had died down and Zayn sleeping gently in his arms. Something inside of him preened and felt as if he’d been praised, pulling out and kissing Zayn once he was turned over. “I’m so happy,” He whispered to no one, cuddling Zayn against his chest in silent delight before remembering the things he had to do. 

He quietly slipped out of bed, calling Zayn’s parents and the school that he was with him and was taking care of him, rest assured. Neither really pressed harder than that, so Harry shrugged and prepared a plate for breakfast. 

It was either an exaggeratedly beautiful day, or Harry was just exaggeratedly pleased with himself. It was impossible to really discern. 

He padded back into the room, opening the door to see a weeping Zayn. “Shit, Zayn,” He ran over, setting the tray down on the table and bringing Zayn to his chest. “What’s wrong?” 

“I thought you left,” Zayn sniffled, asking to be scented as he craned his neck to the side. 

“I’d never leave, no. Just needed to get you something to eat,” Harry kissed him again, “Here. Start with some water.” 

Zayn shook his head but after a few more minutes of coaxing, let Harry hold the glass to his lips. He pouted at Harry when he was done, gripping at his shoulders. “Harry,” 

“Yeah?” Harry loved the way Zayn’s eyes sparkled. 

“Thank you,” Zayn leaned up and kissed his chin, sending sparks of happiness to shoot up in Harry like fireworks on the fourth of July. But of course, he didn’t say it out loud because there’d be no way that Zayn would’ve understood. “You make me feel safe.” 

“Go—go back to sleep before it hits again,” Harry stuttered, heart banging loudly and harshly against his ribcage. “You make me feel safe too, Zayn. I’ll always be here for you.” 

“Wowza.” Zayn yawned and fell back asleep, breathing softly. 

* * *

“Baby,” Louis hummed over his plate of breakfast, one hand holding his phone to his face while the other moved his fruit around. “Look at this.” 

“Hm?” Liam moved to the side to see, realizing that Louis was looking at houses. “What the heck? Why’re you looking at houses?” 

“I was thinking, when we form a new pack,” Louis inquired gingerly, but Liam shook his head. “Why not?” 

“It’s way too soon, Louis, to be thinking about this kind of stuff. Plus, there’s no way that we’d go out and take over another residence, that’s just impractical.” He stood up, having finished his breakfast and walked around the table to get to Louis. 

“I just want to be happy, Li,” Louis complained softly, and Liam nodded, bringing one of his small hands up with his larger one. “I want to be happy.” 

“I know, babe,” Liam kissed his forehead. “We will be soon, alright? But let’s not rush into anything.” 

“Fine,” Louis sighed, standing up to watch his strong alpha husband leave for work, kissing his cheek and fixing his tie as if all of it didn’t make him furious inside. “Have a good day at work, darling.” 

Liam smiled at him, “Make sure to stir up lots of trouble. Extra points if you break something.” 

“Excuse you, this is my house. I’ll go over and wreck your house as soon as you hand me the key,” Louis held out his palm expectantly. “Because you’re right; I’m ever so bored.” 

“You have so many talents, baby, let one of them not be bored today too.” 

He was off, and Louis was seething. At this point in his life, he expected to be on top of a mountain and skydiving, or getting absolutely smashed at every party in London, or at the very least, getting married. He has accomplished none of those things. 

* * *

“Nuh uh, don’t touch me,” Charlie gasped, trying to pry himself out of Niall’s grasp. “I need to shower.” 

“You showered when you came home,” Niall complained, “You smell so good.” 

“Oh, don’t I,” Charlie sarcastically remarked, but letting Niall scent him for a few more minutes anyways. “Can you please keep your hands to yourself?” 

“No.” Niall kissed his neck, tangling their legs together as he hooked Charlie’s in the crook of his elbow. 

“But you fucked me when I came home,” Charlie gasped, Niall’s strong arms holding him down slightly. “Ni, nooooooooo,” 

Niall sighed and let go of his body, but not without giving his arse a final squeeze. “I did not fuck you. I made love to you, don’t be so crude, love.” He grumbled and nipped at his neck. 

“Careful, if you accidentally bond with me…” Charlie was about to make a stupid joke, a really stupid joke, but his words trailed off once he realized how bad it’d sound if he said it out loud. 

_ Careful, if you accidentally bond with me you’ll realize that all of this was a mistake. _

“I’m careful,” Niall said after an awkward pause, whining until Charlie gave him a kiss. “Promise.” 

Something in Charlie’s heart ached, but he just couldn’t place what it was. The whole scene felt wrong, him splayed out for a wealthy and successful alpha in the bed they shared on the better side of town. All the gifts and the affection and the complete ignorance they purposefully accepted from the reality that they were two people that would never be. 

If being honest, Charlie never meant to love him. He didn’t know what love was. 

He turned around and brushed Niall’s hair out of his face, it looked so different when it wasn’t styled upwards neatly. This flat got so much natural light, making Niall look even brighter on their luxurious sheets, but Charlie knew better than to face the picture he saw in the mirror across the room. 

It looked wrong; he wasn’t supposed to be here. The whore and the heir, because _ that _ always turned out well. 

“Charlie, don’t go to work tonight. Stay with me,” Niall coaxed, and although he had put up such a fight to maintain his life as best he could in the fear that Niall would one day realize his worthlessness and kick him out, he nodded and let him crawl on top of his body. They moved so well together, and he smelled like nothing that Charlie had ever smelled before. 

He was just about to melt and be swept away again when Niall suddenly had a hand at the back of his neck, inching towards his omega spot. Charlie immediately freaked out, thrashed out of his grip in a panic and was about to tumble off of the bed before Niall grabbed him and pulled back. 

“Oh fuck, are you okay?” Niall hurriedly kissed his forehead, holding him close. “I’m—I’m sorry, I thought you’d like it.” 

Charlie shook his head, large tears rolling down his face. “Scary.” He whimpered when Niall’s teeth bit down gently in the side of his neck, nowhere near the back of it but still immobilizing nonetheless. 

“Scary?” Niall sounded like a kicked puppy, terrified that he had hurt Charlie in some way. 

“My ex,” Charlie forced out. “When he wasn’t drinking and hitting me he’d hold me down and said nothing felt better than when I couldn’t fight back at all,” Charlie sobbed again, overwhelmed by all the sensations surrounding him. “One time he pressed so hard I passed out for a whole day.” 

He could smell Niall’s anger as he held him closer, kissing his head. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

Charlie shook his head and kissed Niall’s nose back, “He’s in prison, it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay,” Niall firmly stated, intertwining fingers. “He deserves to—“ 

“Well it doesn’t matter what he deserves, does it,” Charlie suddenly snapped, feeling weak. “Because it’ll still happen and people’ll let it. Not me today, but one of my friends tomorrow, and—and it’s all just things that I can’t explain.” He sat up and got out of bed, glaring down at the beautiful marble floors and the shiny white walls of the room. 

“Char,” Niall sighed, sounding distressed as he left the room, taking a moment to give him a head start before following after. “Baby,”

“It’s fine, alright?” Charlie had somehow changed into one of Niall’s hoodies in the span of a few seconds, too big for him but he stuffed his nose into it all the same. “It’s just shit, I’ll get over it.” He felt Niall come up behind him and wrapped his arms around again. 

“Charlie, you know I love you and you can tell me anything.” 

“Niall, what do you like about me?” 

“What?” 

“Why me?” He turned to face him. “Because it doesn’t make any sense, not to me anyways.” 

“I love you because I like everything about you, Chartreuse.” Niall reached forwards, but Charlie dodged it. 

“Yeah, and what if…” Charlie paused to clear his throat, “What if I give up everything for you and then you—you throw me away? Don’t say that’s ridiculous.” He didn’t like the way pain flashed across Niall’s face. 

“Char,” Niall sighed, bringing him onto his lap. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“I dunno,” Charlie couldn’t stop crying. “I dunno what to do.” 

“Someone say something to you, my love?” Niall whispered, gently running his fingers through his hair. “This is scary; seeing you like this. What’s wrong?” 

Charlie succumbed to his touch and melted against him, taking in deep breaths of Niall’s scent and crying just a little bit harder. “I dunno what’s wrong.” 

“I love you,” Niall kissed him, coaxing to turn his head. “I love you too,” Charlie said it ‘cause it was true. He didn’t know what love was, he thought. Noah had smelled like nothing else to him, made him feel things no one else ever did. But that wasn’t all love was, it was weak. 

It got overpowered by poverty and addiction and stirred up a man to become a monster, and Charlie knew that Niall was not to be a victim of any of those things, but something still felt off. 

“Gonna go to work today,” Charlie managed to make out. “Can’t lose my job.” 

“Eventually, do you think you’ll quit? I can take care of us.” Niall asked, and Charlie didn’t want to answer, so just cuddled closer and pretended that he was sleepy. 

* * *

Zayn woke up hot, his vision blurry. Harry was next to him, lips stationed at his forehead, sleeping peacefully like the world would never end. “Hazza,” He tried, tapping his arm. “Hazza,” he tried again, louder and patted his face. 

“Mhm?” Harry groaned, shifting in his spot at the sound of Zayn’s voice. “Need me, babe?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn couldn’t help the moan that escaped from his lips when Harry got in between his legs and felt his hole for slick. “Need you so bad.” 

“I’ve never seen anyone produce so much before,” He sounded amazed, teasing Zayn’s rim with his fingers. “Gonna put it in, okay?” 

Zayn nodded and gripped the sheets in anticipation, tensing up when he felt the head of his cock prod at his hole. He whimpered, unable to help how tense he was, so he looked up at Harry for help. 

Harry wordlessly kissed him, reaching a hand to the back of his neck and gently making circles on his spot, watching as Zayn’s eyes fluttered back and closed. It was something to be writing poetry about, he reckoned. The way Zayn’s skin pulled taut when he tried to run his hand on him, sweaty and hotter than his own body. Hair thoroughly tousled and lips looking like they were about to burst, it was like a scene from a movie and Harry accidentally stumbled onto the set. 

“Gorgeous,” He heard himself say without thinking, and Zayn squirmed at the compliment. “Ah, don’t move, baby.” 

“Harry, please,” Zayn gripped his bicep and looked adorably frustrated, cock hard against his stomach as he tried to nudge Harry’s into him. “Don’t make fun of me.” 

“I’m not, swear. Just admiring,” Harry finally began to push in, incidentally pushing Zayn down further into the bed with his body weight. “You gotta relax, babe, can’t get in if you don’t.” 

Zayn shook his head and cried out in a broken tone, “I can’t relax, not like this. It’s too much, can’t breathe.” He yelped when Harry inadvertently pushed in more, scratching angry red lines down his back. 

“Sorry,” Harry cursed under his breath, gathering Zayn in his arms and turning them over. “Does it hurt?” 

“No,” Zayn got off of his cock, leaning against his chest. “Just a lot.” 

“Think you can ride me?” Harry asked gently, brushing the hair out of Zayn’s face. “You’re shivering, love. You cold?” 

Zayn nodded, lifting himself up and pleaded for Harry to help him sit back down, moaning and squinting his face as his hips met with Harry’s hips. “Oh my god,” 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Harry grunted and gripped Zayn’s hipbones and dominantly began to move them back and forth, growling for Zayn to come forward so he could bite down on his neck. “I’ll get you there, don’t worry.” 

There really wasn't anything left to him to do except take it, Harry’s teeth gripped tight in his neck and his hands not letting up on shoving his cock into him over and over. He secretly loved how touching Harry made him feel like he was on some kind of trip, where his body was warm but his skin was cold, his alpha using his hole however he pleased. 

“Come for me,” Harry demanded softly after letting go, releasing one hand to hold Zayn’s chin down as they sloppily kissed. It wasn’t until Harry began to truly _ bounce _ Zayn on his dick that they pulled away, the latter’s whimpers getting in the way of their lips. “It’s almost over, yeah? Come again, sweetheart, it’s okay.” 

“Can’t,” Zayn shook his head, but Harry just smiled gently, cradling his face in his hand and slowing their movements to a lazy pace. “I really don’t think I can.” 

“I think you can,” Harry could feel how Zayn’s rim was clenching around his knot every time he thrusted in, his breathing becoming erratic, and his moans becoming desperate. These are all things he should not be able to recognize in their first time having sex, but incidentally, Harry had been waiting for a person like Zayn his entire life. “Yeah, that’s it, babe.” 

His omega came with a scream and Harry promptly shoved him down onto his knot, shushing him and kissing his face. Zayn was shivering, so Harry brought the duvet up, it seemed like the heat was fading. “Turn your head this way, babe.” 

“Neck’s sore,” Zayn grumbled, shaking his head and faceplanting right into the center of Harry’s chest. “Leave me alone, I have to focus on keeping your disgustingly large cock inside of—“ 

“_ Disgustingly _ large?” Harry blinked. “It’s…average alpha size. It’s not _ disgustingly _ large.” 

“One day I will make a dildo of your dick and shove it up in you, and then we will see how averagely sized it is, Styles,” Zayn’s eyes were dark. “I feel split open, used, broken in. It’s quite a disorienting disposition.” 

Harry scoffed, “Babe, if I didn’t do all of those things to you, your heat would be another day longer. You also came like a dozen times—“ 

Zayn scoffed back a response, “It’s not my fault that my body wants to make a baby.” Harry’s face flushed at that, and Zayn giggled when he quickly looked away. “What, you like the idea of me having your baby?” 

“You could say that to any alpha and they’d get shy,” Harry deflected, but not well. “Oh, leave me alone, will you? I’m trying to knot here.” 

“It feels weird,” Zayn shifted, tugging on Harry’s dick and the both of them shrieked. “Fuck, I shouldn’t move, should I?” 

“It does feel weird,” Harry agreed, prodding ever so slightly at Zayn’s rim. “You okay?” 

Zayn was not okay, grinding his hips in a circle to confirm his hypothesis. “I think the condom broke.” 

“That’s impossible, alpha condoms can hold up to fifty gallons of water.” 

“That tells me nothing, I don’t use your superfluous American measurements.” 

“_ Superfluous? _” 

“Hazza, I’m serious. For someone who gets strangely bossy and dark in bed, you seem to be keen on joking,” Zayn snapped, suddenly squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck.” 

“Fuck,” Harry felt it too, another part inside of Zayn opening and the sensations felt different. “The condom ripped, fuck, the condom ripped.” 

“Was there a Plan B in that heat kit?” Zayn asked, struggling to breathe as the head of Harry’s cock began to breach at his cervix. “Oh my god, that’s…” 

Harry was quicking losing control as well, “I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, can’t pull out, can’t pull out.” 

“It’s okay,” Zayn shut him up by placing a hand over his mouth. “We reap what we sow. We’ll just…get a Plan B later and it’ll be fine, right?” 

“Have you never been on suppressants before?” Harry was panicking as Zayn was fighting the urge to shimmy harder down onto Harry, toes curling at each wave of warmth reaching within him to a whole new level. “Like, never ever?” 

“Never ever,” Zayn’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and Harry groaned, feeling ten times more sensitive than before. “Harry, stop doing that.” 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” Harry retorted, trying to figure out if there was a way he could mentally stop himself from coming more. “We’re so, so stupid.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Zayn slapped at his chest. “You got bad condoms.” 

“They can hold _ fifty _ gallons of water! How was I supposed to know that it would disappoint us in such a way?” Harry held Zayn’s waist still and they stared at each other in complete blankness. “Yeah, it’ll all be okay.” 

“Yeah, totally. Just…Plan B and we’ll be okay,” Zayn repeated out loud, and together they slowly nodded unconvincingly. “Was this a whole scheme to try and trap me?” 

“Zayn,” Harry looked dumbfounded, “That’s rape. No.” 

“Sorry, I have trust issues,” Zayn agreed with him, and apologized for even accusing him of such a heinous thing. “It’s just…I trust you, in this strange way. You’re the only one who can get me to write five page essays and crawl out of air conditioning vents.” 

Harry snorted, “That’s all it takes to trust someone?” 

Zayn shrugged, “I’ve never felt more safe during a heat in my entire life. And yeah, maybe I’m still high and maybe all of this is just some nonsensical bullshit that I’ll forget I said and maybe this is just some kind of dream, because I’ve been having a lot of those lately.” He panted, getting ever so sensitive. 

“Please don’t squeeze, it makes me come more,” Harry begged, but was blushing at what the beautiful boy just said. “You been dreaming ‘bout me?” 

Zayn slapped his chest again, “More or less. And sorry, it’s hard to control your own muscles when a disgustingly—averagely sized dick is being shoved up into places you didn’t even know existed.” 

“You’re really mean to me sometimes,” Harry decided that _ now _ was the best time to confront him. “But I kinda like it. I thought you were the quiet sub type, so it was a real surprise to witness how much you mouth off.” 

“You’re mean to me too,” Zayn sniffled. “You’re making me go back to rehab.” 

“Look where we are, babe. Look at what we’re doing right now. You really telling me you want to be high for this?” Harry asked, and Zayn’s never been asked such a question before. 

“I don’t get high for those reasons,” Zayn blinked and looked away. 

“Then for what reasons?” Harry ran a hand through Zayn’s scalp and it felt so motherfucking good. 

“I…” Zayn’s voice trailed off. “I guess I just like seeing them again.” 

“Seeing who again? When you hallucinate? When you go missing for hours and the neighbors find you in the park covered in your own puke?” Harry wasn’t letting up, and deep down, Zayn appreciated it. 

“I hate dancing,” Zayn shrugged. “But I miss it.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but decided not to press further. When he could finally release them from each other, he pulled out slowly to assess the damage. “We’re so fucking stupid. A pair of imbeciles, cretins.” 

Zayn just sighed, assertively pushing Harry’s chin up and planting a firm kiss. “You’re the worst, you know that, Styles? You know more about me than my parents do, and I don’t know how you did it.” 

Harry leaned forward and kissed him back. “It’s not a trick, I swear on my mom’s life.” 

“Don’t do that, don’t bet on things that aren’t your own.” Zayn sighed again, looking at Harry’s ‘hopelessly in love’ expression. 

He wondered if it was real. 

If it wasn’t, Harry sure was a great actor. 

He then wondered if he was being a bit too pessimistic, and if he continued he’d ruin this thing they had. If it even was a thing, which he guessed it was now considering there was an extremely high chance of him getting knocked up. 

“You look like you’re thinking, can you stop? It’s making me nervous,” Harry was wiping them off with a towel. “Feels like you’re tryna stare into my soul or somethin’.” 

Zayn kissed him again just to make sure he could live in this moment as it appeared before him, “And if I am?” just for a second. 

“You don’t need to stare so hard, I can just tell you,” Harry made that face again, that spaced-out, fucked-out, ‘I just fell in love’ face. “Stop thinking so hard all the time, Zayn. Take it from a psychologically traumatized kid, it makes you dumber than you really are.” 

“I’m traumatized too, people deal with it in different ways,” Zayn realized how right Harry was; his brain was always getting distracted and drained by the extra stuff he had floating around in it. “Maybe I like being dumber than I actually am.” 

Harry smiled and shook his head. “No you don’t.” 

Zayn’s face burned.

Yeah, he didn’t. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y’all are full lmao I’ll going to hell  
Please leave comments and make me feel better about how shitty my writing is lol  
-j


	7. did you mean it when you said i was pretty?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **strawberries on a summer evenin'**  
**baby, you're the end of June**  
**i want your belly and that summer feelin'**  
**getting washed away in you**  
-harry styles, watermelon sugar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of random gay porn I had to watch in order to write the smut last chapter…oh MY god. I need to go boil my eyes, I hope y’all are satisfied.

Zayn was a dancer.

He had watched his older sisters prance across the stage since he was three, begged his parents to enroll him into the same kind of ballet classes that they were in. They told him he’d never make it to the same class because they’re too advanced. They had no idea he’d surpass them within a year. 

His mistakes were deliberate, his technique flawless when he wished for it to be, presented emotion and skill in a never-ending turbulence fighting against each other. Before anyone knew it, the show was over and Zayn had transformed into the character he desperately wished for the audience to understand him to be.

He had many instructors over the years, having been told that he was a natural soloist and had his own studio time allotted in the back of their estate. He didn’t like a single one of them; didn’t let anyone tell him how to be good, all but two. 

An American couple who had moved to England after being scouted by the Royal Ballet House got the job. They were tall, elegant, and didn’t say a word when Zayn rehearsed, which was the aspect he liked most about them. If he slipped, they silently snapped and fixed his body into the right positions, when they enjoyed it, they nodded and smiled like they’d found something rare. 

Zayn loved being looked at like he was something rare; loved placing his station in the world not as an heir, but an artist. Often times, he’d tell his instructors that he could hear the colors in the sky, that he was swimming in a desert, and falling off of the moon. 

Nothing could tear him from dancing, it was his lifeline. If Louis was the thread he was hanging onto, the art was the needle. 

They did many duets together, Zayn always inadvertently outshining his best friend on the stage. Louis constantly complained about rehearsal and about how much his feet hurt, but like his instructors, Zayn put a finger over his own mouth and motioned to Louis the voices he was ignoring, wisps of a scene before their birth, whispering secrets that they’d never rebel against. 

When his parents found out, they sent him to a psychiatrist. There, they told them that Zayn was just a little different from the rest of the world, and if he stopped moving the world would swallow him into the Earth. They offered him ADHD medication, but Zayn refused time and time again, insisting that he would he lost without his fanciful outlook on life. 

His instructors retired from the Royal House of Ballet after just a few years, they had reached their mid-thirties and became fully committed to Zayn privately, producing masterpieces out of his body at every competition and show. By the time Louis quit dance, Zayn and the Americans were a brand; his second set of parents, the ones that knew him not as a human but as a wave of energy never settling on the earth. 

They spent nearly fifteen years together. 

Then one day, at around three in the morning, the Americans put their initial plan into action. From the very beginning they had conspired to rob Zayn’s family and all the families on the same street, knowing extensively how to get to all of the jewels now that Trisha and Yaser trusted them enough to give them a key. 

They broke in silently, cutting straight through the dance studio and into the main house, where they snuck up to the second floor where the office was, and also Zayn’s bedroom. Their plan was simple; there’d be a second alarm that’d be triggered after they’d opened the safe, so they had a ladder thrown out from the window in preparation to run. 

They did not account for Zayn’s ADHD tendencies and that he had severe insomnia at the time. When he heard footsteps outside of his bedroom that he didn’t recognize the gait of, he stopped and snuck out to see who it was. 

Needless to say, it didn’t end well. 

The safe did have a second alarm, and when it was triggered, Zayn screamed and they yanked him in, had masks but he could recognize their faces, trembling as they held a gun to his head. 

In minutes, his parents and the security guards posted at the front of the estate blocked off the room, the two sides yelling at each other while Zayn’s world slowly started to become very dark. 

He recognized the perfume, the hands, the eyes, and bodies that were squeezing him within an inch of his life. It was then he realized a simple truth: He was not a dancer. He never was. 

How silly of him to believe that he was anything more than his name, and with the heavy steel being pressed to his temple, he bitterly wondered if the world was even worth entertaining at all. The air was just air. The water he danced and swam through drained into the floor, and so did the moon; all mirages and idiotic creations that they enabled him to worship. 

It didn’t feel real, the angry and horrified looks on his parents’ faces, the shouting of the Americans in response, he had never heard their voices so loudly before. He thought dissociatively on how genuine they sounded in their threats to kill him. 

After a while, they harshly threw him to the ground and made a run for it, using their ladder as an escape, but being first professional dancers before professional thieves, they failed to make it out of the grounds. 

Zayn went into shock, his leg broken, and everything moved in stifling slow motion. He could hear nothing but two heavy gunshots ringing in tandem outside. 

They converted the dance studio to a library. 

He learned how to swallow all his pills like a good boy.

* * *

Eventually they made it back to Zayn’s house. 

“I’m a master at swallowing pills, you don’t need to stare at me so hard.” Zayn tells Harry, rolling his eyes as he swallowed down the morning after pill with a glass of water. 

“Sorry, just nervous, I guess,” Harry exhales and gets up, pacing around the room whilst fidgeting his hands, “I’m sorry.” 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Zayn shook his head, holding out a hand for Harry to grab. “It was an accident. We’ll be okay.” 

Harry laughed quietly, “Just a couple hours ago I was the one comforting you.” 

“Just a couple hours ago, I was high as a kite and wouldn’t have made it home unless a certain American carried me there,” Zayn stands up, still holding Harry’s hand as they walk out of the bedroom. “So you are still an angel in my eyes.” 

“What’s that room right there?” Harry asked, stopping Zayn before he could lead him to the stairs. “Is it another library?” He turns to Zayn, who briefly looked in the general direction and visibly tensed up.

“No, it’s not.” He tugs Harry and they go downstairs. 

“Oh, okay,” Harry resolves and lets the small person drag him around, feed him breakfast, and unleash his sister onto him. “Hello, Miss Safaa.” 

“He called me ‘miss!’” Safaa’s voice was sharp so early in the morning. “You’re so weird.” 

“Can you not be rude, Saf?” Zayn flicked her forehead and she ran off, red in the face and most definitely about to tattle. “Sorry.” 

“I like her, she’s smart,” Harry says oddly, considering he hasn’t seen her do or say anything that would warrant such praise. “Like you.” 

Zayn snorts as he takes mugs out of the cabinet for a cuppa, “I’m not smart.” 

“Could you just accept the compliment, please? I’m not liking this negativity.” Harry crossed his arms and raises an eyebrow, Zayn just rolled his eyes. 

“Being in this house causes negativity to stew in me, I sincerely apologize.” 

“Nah, it doesn’t stew in you,” Harry says wisely, “You absorb it and convert it back out into colors. I’ve seen you do it, when you talk about your favorite books and…when you laugh.” 

Zayn stares at him for a moment. 

How strange and uncommon this bloke was. Rare, maybe. 

* * *

“He fucked you against the wall?” Louis sputtered, nearly spitting out his chlorophyll water. “Jesus, he doesn’t look that strong in his pictures.” 

“They lie,” Zayn shrugged. “The condom also broke.” 

Now there was green water all over the floor. “Excuse me?” 

Without missing a beat, Zayn threw paper towels on the liquid and moved them around with his foot, “I took Plan B. Don’t worry.” 

“Don’t worry? Did you just—“ Louis slammed the glass down and ran over to the other side of the counter. “Zayn, what if you get pregnant?” 

“I won’t.” 

“But what if you do, though?” Louis exasperatedly throws his hands in the air, looking more distressed than Zayn in light of this information. “What will you do?” 

“I’ll marry him, I guess.” 

“You serious?” 

“I don’t see why not.” 

Louis blinked at him. “Please tell me what you’re on. I’m serious, Zayn,” 

Zayn laughed, genuinely throwing his head back and only stopping when he remembered how Harry said he could see colors erupting when he laughed. He quickly looked back down and drank his own glass of green water, cheeks pink. “I’m not on anything, I’m actually going to start rehab next week.” 

Louis raised an eyebrow, “Really? Are you sure about that?” 

“Not full rehab, that’d be a waste of time. Therapy. Group meetings. Maybe even confess to a priest every once in a while,” Zayn looked very serious. “I need to change my life, Lou.” 

“I meant,” Louis shook him by the shoulders. “You’d marry that guy? You know, you’ve only known him for a few months and he’s…well, he’s American, I’m sure you can place the conflict of interest there.” 

“It’s exactly why I’d marry him, if need be,” Zayn wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and pulled him in. “But let’s not get too drastic.” 

“Yeah, let’s not,” Louis kissed his forehead as they rocked from side to side. “I still don’t understand, but they say that you fall in love with the things you don’t understand.” 

* * *

“Which is why I’m moving out, Liam,” Louis informed him as he packed his bags, neatly folding every shirt and counting all of his shoes. “I’m going to live anywhere but this godforsaken house and you can either come with me or stay here.” 

Liam looked tired, the bags under his eyes getting emphasized when he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lou.”

“I’ll never be able to understand myself, but I can at least love  _ me _ if I tried. Right now, I don’t think I love  _ me _ , Liam. I don’t like waiting for you to visit and waiting for you to say yes to the things that would change our lives. I love you, but some people were never meant to feel this captured.” 

“You feel captured?” Liam’s voice cracked. 

“That’s not what I meant, but along the same vein, yes,” Louis clicked his suitcase shut. “I want to write a book about Naples in Naples. I want to pet rhinos and walk on the Great wall of China, and if that means giving up being your practice wife, I’ll do it.” 

“Louis, I love you.” 

“‘I love you too’...and we still haven’t fixed anything.” Louis didn’t know if it would work or not, but he was damn well not going to be a loser ‘cause he didn’t try. 

Liam just of just sat down on his bed and rubbed the back of his neck, and for a second, Louis cracked and considered just giving it up for today. 

Well, no. “Liam, I’m—I’m going.” Louis picked his two sloppily packed cases up, floundering around because of the weight, and that’s when Liam cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. 

Ah, shit. 

He slowly walked out of the doorway, chest going up and down heavily as he did so, lip twitching and eyes blinking furiously. He got about six steps into the hallway before he seriously considered just dropping it and running into Liam’s arms, but right before he could do so… 

“Lou, wait.” 

Well. Louis stopped, and made a show of turning around. “Yes?” 

Liam crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “So where are we moving?” 

Louis broke into a large grin from ear to ear and dropped the stupid cases to jump at him, Liam chuckling when he caught him. “I don’t fucking know, I was just gonna stay the night at Zaynie’s if you didn’t stop me.” 

“Wow, you little—“ Liam was cut off by Louis kissing him. “—Shit. You’re a little shit.” 

“No I’m not, I’m your baby.” Louis poked his face, jutting out his lower lip as Liam carried them back into his room. 

Liam muttered to himself, “‘Practice wife?’ Really? Maybe I should’ve just let you,” Louis began to nuzzle his face into his neck, which always drove him mad, “...Of course I was gonna stop you.” 

* * *

When Charlie got home from work, there was an envelope waiting for him on the shoe cabinet. This shoe cabinet was grand and expensive and housed enough shoes to make it look like it was a family of ten that lived here. It precluded the four bedroom flat, separate kitchen and dining table, a modest parlor and a modest living room and a modest three toilets. 

His name was written in calligraphy, the penmanship immaculate, the stationary ribbed and soft, and his full name spelled out like he was a king or summat. 

Chartreuse Beau Axton. 

A name that hinted on the borders of either a prostitute or a highborn trust-fund baby, he would always tell people. Maybe it was just self defense in part of his embarrassment because of it. Maybe it was because he didn’t understand why he was named in such a way. Maybe it was because he didn’t know to which ‘Axton’ he belonged. 

But he opened it, the paper scuffing dust into the air and he pulled out two tickets for the Royal Ballet presenting “Mayerling.” 

“Wow,” was all he could say, he’d never been to the ballet before lest that part of town. A separate note was tucked behind the tickets, and he instantly recognized the farewell’s name. 

_ I know you’ve been apprehensive about us lately, about how different our lives are. I want to propose a deal: we enter my world one day, yours the next, and so on. I love the ballet. I hope you will too. _

_ -N _

“I mean, okay, I guess,” Charlie muttered to himself, taking off his shoes, dropping the envelope onto the table, and making a beeline for the shower. He didn’t want Niall to come home to him smelling like another man’s cologne. But then again, he didn’t want Niall finding out a lot of things. 

After bathing, he dried his hair with one hand and searched on Google what Mayerling was. It auto searched to ‘Mayerling incident.’ Charlie always did his research, always carefully planned, he’d die if he was stuck in a situation unprepared. 

A horrid story about a young man committing adultery with a woman half his age, having been already unhappily married to a princess, their love was secretive, explosive, destructive. He killed her and sat by her body for hours before poisoning himself. 

Maybe Charlie was just dehydrated when he felt a tug on his throat, but for some reason, he imagined the story as the seventeen year old Mary Vetsera, chasing after a man she could never have and ultimately paying the price of his insolence. It was one of the many things that led to the first World War, and speaking of war, Charlie felt like he was always on the brink of declaring it with himself. 

But why not? It was just a ballet show, a night where he could wear a pretty outfit and hang off of Niall’s arm and bat his eyelashes at the life he was apparently trying to fit into. 

There are many things he’d never say to Niall, out of embarrassment, mostly. One of the them being what  _ actually _ happened to his ex-boyfriend. Another being that said ex-boyfriend walked into the Advantage earlier that night to “pay his favorite birdie a visit.” 

* * *

It was the very first time Zayn had the courage to shove Sean off of him on his way to the study center. In the past, the impending contact would take over his entire body, but today, he had too many responsibilities and cumbersome thoughts to entertain a simpleton. 

He even dramatized a bit by making a face as he slithered out of Sean’s domineering grasp, the students of the courtyard howling as his witnesses. 

Harry was at the door, he was clearly about to run out and save Zayn but stopped when he saw that he didn’t need saving.

Zayn smiled and gave Harry a hug; he liked this kind of power. 

_ Watch me. Watch me. They want a show. Make Sean mad. Make Harry fall in love with me.  _

_ Don’t fall in love with Harry. Keep things interesting, the world will change the channel if they get bored, right? _

“Did you finish that last paper?” Harry pulled back and smoothly secured Zayn’s hand in his, Zayn watching him do so. “Pretty easy, right?” 

“Too easy,” Zayn smiled coyly, practically skipping into the building whilst training his eyes on the reflection in the glass and how boiling mad Sean Montgomery was. “Harry, you have something in your hair.” 

“Hm?” Harry reached his free hand to his head, but it was on the opposite side, so Zayn tugged him down and removed it for him. 

“You had a leaf in your hair and you didn’t notice?” Zayn twirled the pretty orange and yellow stem in between his fingers. “You know what, I think I’ll keep it.” 

“That’s embarrassing,” Harry groaned. “I’ve been at school for two hours now.” 

“It’s cute,” Zayn insisted, placing the leaf in between the pages of a hardback copy of “Great Expectations” that he always kept in his bag. “I guess  _ you’re _ cute too.” 

Harry snorted and flashed a crooked smile at him, and suddenly, the world didn’t matter anymore. Zayn was just Zayn, and Harry reminded him of that every single day. 

_ Oh, “don’t fall in love with Harry” my arse.  _

Who was he kidding. 

* * *

Harry shipped Twinkies and Ho-Ho’s just so Zayn could try ‘em and hate them. 

He made him fajitas and reuben sandwiches and key lime pies, and it was the very first time in Zayn’s life that he’d been so enthusiastic about eating. 

They binged watched the Harry Potter movies, then all the MCU ones and at some point, tolerated Wonder Woman as a good one. They usually did these activities on Zayn’s or Harry’s couch, the fall breeze making the houses go chilly and providing the perfect excuse to cuddle. 

They never discussed if they were dating, or about possibly getting knocked up, or about that silly marriage joke that their mums played on them many months back. 

Zayn started birth control without telling his parents. 

Before they knew it, a whole ‘nother year passed, having silently held each other to sleep nearly every single night. Louis teased that Zayn was in love, and Zayn insisted that he wasn’t. He said that Louis’ claims were preposterous based on the tiny amount of information he knows thus far. What he didn’t say was that he secretly withheld the information that would sound suspicious. 

Yes, Zayn twirls Harry’s hair around his fingers as Harry reads to him Pride and Prejudice. Harry gently thumbs at Zayn’s omega spot as Zayn reads to him Anna Karenina. They have picnics on sunny days in the forest, lay out a blanket and feed each other cheese underneath the spotted sunlight given by the trees above.

They’ve helped each other with every heat and rut and didn’t even think about any other alternatives to dealing with it. Zayn longed for the times that Harry had an excuse to touch his body, because otherwise, Zayn would have to ask him to, which is forward, which is confrontational, which is scary. 

They had so many sleepovers that they had a pair of sleepwear and a toothbrush at each other’s houses, and Harry always woke up first to hold the side of Zayn’s face until he woke up and kissed his hand away. 

His parents have started to ask how it’s been going, and Zayn tells them time and time again that it is strictly platonic between them. No courting has been explicitly instigated. 

No alphas dared to go near Zayn because he smelled so strongly of Harry all the time, almost as if they were mated. Sean scowls in the background, he’s always in the background. When it comes to Harry, everyone’s always in the background for Zayn. Insignificant white noise, and the only voice he hones in on is the one that tells him he’s beautiful and smart and like no one else. 

“Zayn. Zayn. Zayn.” 

Louis was poking his nose incessantly and in fascination. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Zayn blinked and shoved Louis’ hand away, quickly remembering that he was at Louis and Liam’s flat and they were playing a game of Scrabble. He had conjured up that entire narrative of him and Harry in the span of a cycle before his turn, jesus chr—

“Jesus Christ,” Louis cut his thoughts off. “Just tell him that you like him. It’s not rocket science.” 

“As a rocket scientist, I can confirm,” Liam hummed before laying down “quip” and making Louis screech in frustration. “Look at me, Zaynie, I’m beating the English major.” 

“I can see that,” Zayn laughed, kissing Louis’ cheek lovingly as he glared at his own letters. “Calm down, it’s just a game.” 

Louis snapped his head up and towards him, “My pride is on the line. This is serious, I may have to kill my fiancé after this.” 

“I do hope you’re joking, because I just won,” Liam stuck his tongue out and Louis tried to bite it off. “Zaynie didn’t even try, and he’s about to get a  _ Masters _ in English. Harry must really be all up in there.” 

Zayn went pink, “No he’s not. Leave me alone.” 

“Yeah Li, leave him alone,” Louis goaded, still looking at the board and his previous words to see when exactly Liam surpassed his advantage. “Honestly, Zaynie and Hazza are the kind of couple to get married without ever having dated.” 

“That’s ironic, it’s like an arranged marriage,” Liam chortled. “Or is it a juxtaposition?” 

“Stop trying to distract me from redeeming myself in the next round.” 

“Baby, we’ve been playing for the past two hours.” 

“I refuse to let you use this as a story to tell our future kids about how you’re better at English than me.” 

“Our future kids? You want kids?” 

“Well, yeah, you big dumb doorknob.” 

“Oh. That makes me happy.” 

“...Good.” 

“Good.” 

Zayn had left the room five minutes ago and they were still having their awkward teenage romance conversations while blushing like teenage brides on their wedding nights. That’s what he’ll say if they asked why he dipped. 

In honesty, he just really wanted to call Harry. 

“Hello?” Zayn breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Harry’s voice, his heart playing hopscotch on his ribs. “Zayn?” 

“Hi,” Zayn whispered, and he felt tingly all over. “Just wanted to call and see what you’re up to.” 

“Oh, I’m actually with my grandma and my mom right now. They’re discussing important stuff and I’m supposed to sit in, I guess. What’re you doing?” 

“I’m playing Scrabble with the angel and the devil.” Zayn scratched at a random part of the chair he was sitting on. 

“Who won?” 

“The angel, of course,” Zayn giggled, feeling electricity going all up inside and out of his body. “He’s quite good.” 

“Even though the devil is an English major?” 

Zayn confirmed, “Yes. It’s like I’m invisible, they’re all up on each other all the time.” 

“Zayn, isn’t your heat starting? Maybe head home soon, yeah? I’ll be with you once you get home.” Harry’s voice went noticeably quieter. 

“Yeah, I won’t keep you from the uber important meeting. See you soon, big strong alpha.” Zayn drawled, and Harry chuckled as they hung up. 

When he walked back into the room, Louis was on top of Liam and they were fervently making out, so Zayn made the executive decision as to not intrude them in their baby making session. He slipped on his coat and shoes and walked to his house, the sun setting at a disturbingly early hour. 

Harry was waiting for him at the gate, and if Zayn didn’t remember that he lived just down the street, he’d be surprised of his eagerness. But this is just two friends helping each other out, right? 

“Kicked everyone out?” Harry immediately wrapped an arm around his waist as they walked into a very large and very empty home. 

“Yup, they’re all at my nan’s,” Zayn grinned, and Harry put a hand on his forehead. “Am I hot?” 

“In every which way,” Harry winked. “I’ll run you a cold bath.” 

“No, just take me to bed now,” Zayn shook his head and clasped their hands together. Harry looked a little shocked, maybe even a little bit conflicted, and while Zayn tried not to notice, he noticed. “Some...something wrong?” 

Harry blinked and shook his head, “No, nothing’s wrong. Come on, I bet I can beat my record from last time.” 

“Last time was thirteen hours, I highly doubt you can get more giving than that.” Zayn pulled off his clothes and yanked Harry onto his bed, feeling the rush of heat and fire bubble inside of him. The air was already starting to get thick with pheromones, and Harry was all so familiar with being in between Zayn’s thighs. 

“Wanna ride me?” Harry’s voice was low and gruff in his ear, hands pressing down on Zayn’s stomach and keeping him pinned to the bed. “Take control?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn whined, sweat making his hair stick and feel more needy, making Harry flip them over so that he was on his lap. “I’ll be good for you.” 

“I know,” Harry held Zayn’s hips steady as he sank down onto his cock, moaning and getting louder the deeper he went. “You’re always good for me.” 

Zayn whined again at that, high pitched and sounding so soft and cute, blush covering his cheeks and his glasses slipping off of his face. He yelped and dropped his jaw every time Harry pulled him back down, pre-cum leaking all over Harry’s stomach and his toes flexing every few minutes. “Harry, ‘m gonna come again.” 

“Yeah, babe,” Harry took his glasses off whilst kissing, gently holding Zayn’s jaw with a firm grip as they smashed faces together. “The fucking noises you make, god.” 

“Haz, shush.” Zayn groaned, eyes fluttering shut and his head thrown back, neck shiny with sweat and somehow screamed more erotiscm than anyone Harry had ever seen, the way that Zayn moved was enthralling and captivating. 

“You really are a ballerina,” He said off-handedly, in between grunts and harsh upward thrusts. Zayn looked at him dazed, through his eyelashes he read Harry’s face. That same expression, conflicted and struggling to hide it, was preventing Zayn from drowning the world out. 

By the time he knotted and Zayn came for a third time, they were well and truly spent, Zayn laying on his chest as Harry slowly slid down the headrest so his own back was touching the mattress. Their skin stuck together and Zayn could hear only his breath and the sound of Harry’s heart wildly beating. 

“Hm, what’s this?” Harry asked, easily reaching over to the nightstand for a crumpled piece of paper. “Oh, it’s a number.” 

“Just some rando gave it to me, told them I’m not interested,” Zayn sighed, melting into Harry’s embrace. “You’re unusually observant.” 

“I like being unusual, makes for a better surprise,” Harry kissed his head. “Were they cute?” 

“Who?” Zayn looked up at him. 

“The person who gave you this number.” 

Something in Zayn’s throat closed and his body felt tight, “Uh…I mean, I didn’t really notice.” 

“If they were, maybe you should go for it,” Harry said nonchalantly, and Zayn felt like he was being imprisoned. 

_ “Just tell him that you like him. It’s not rocket science.”  _

Perhaps it should be. 

“I’m going to pass on that,” Zayn chuckled weakly after his mind scrambled to collect itself. “What about...you?” 

“Actually,” Harry gave a soft grunt when he pulled out of Zayn, positioning them so that the latter’s head was tucked underneath the former’s chin. “I have to tell you something.” 

Maybe Zayn should just come out and say it, before Harry says anything or beats him to it. 

“I,” 

“—I,” 

“You first,” Harry immediately replied, and like a reflex, Zayn said the same thing. 

He nervously bit his lip as he watched Harry’s lip get ready to move, and right when he opened his mouth he shouted, “Wait, Harry.” 

“Hm?” Harry was thoroughly confused, and Zayn chickened out again. “Oh, okay.” 

“So you were saying?” Zayn’s voice cracked and he hoped Harry didn’t notice. 

“The meeting today with my mom and grandma, turns out my grandma’s letting me go back to L.A. My mom needs me at the company.” 

The world drowned itself out. Zayn went frozen, couldn’t even blink. It was nearly impossible for him to fathom what Harry just said. “But—“ 

“But?” He asked, really wanting Zayn to finish at least one sentence. 

“You and I,” Zayn managed to get out, but it diverted, “We’re a team. How am,” He choked, “I supposed to graduate university now?” 

Harry looked like he was about to cry, but Zayn wasn’t sure if it was just him hoping it so. “You’re the smartest person I know. If all else fails, I know you’ll manage to make something out of it.” 

Stupid Harry. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

“I think I’m gonna get some water,” Zayn pushed himself away and rolled into an upright position, suddenly nauseous and his vision going blurry. He quickly tied his robe around his waist and sped out of the room, knocking his back to the wall before sliding down with a hand covering his mouth. 

He looked to his left, and there it was. The festering pit of bad luck and demons and nightmares, Zayn got up on shaky legs and stomped towards it, getting to the door and yanking it open. 

The office was empty, of course it was. They just kept it closed all these years out of courtesy, and yet, Zayn could vividly remember every single furniture piece and book and chair that once lived inside it. 

Their names were Bella and Ryan. Principal dancers of the Royal Ballet, the same people who taught Zayn how to make moving effortless were amateurish robbers, so stupid enough to end up getting shot in his backyard for tresspassing. 

He heard Harry’s footsteps behind him, “Zayn? What’re you doing? It’s cold in here.” He was just finishing the last buckle on his belt.

“I heard you earlier,” Tears were rolling down his cheeks. “And I’m gonna say it again. I’m not a dancer. Never was or will be.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I’m a name and a face and a hole to fuck and a legacy to drag around.” Zayn spat, fists trembling as he moved to stand in the dead center of the room. 

“Wait, what? Zayn,” 

“When do you leave?” He didn’t turn to face Harry. 

“In two days. It was really last minute, they held off on telling me because they knew I’d try and refuse.” 

Zayn felt broken. He wiped his face and turned around, walking past Harry and headed for the stairs. “You can start packing, then.” 

“Zayn?” Harry sounded panicked, footsteps chasing after his. “Zayn, wait.” 

“No,” Zayn was so angry that he couldn’t do anything but cry. “I’m so stupid. I’ve wasted everybody’s time.” 

Harry reached out and Zayn dodged his hands. “Please, listen to me.” 

“I don’t want you to touch me.” 

“Zayn, I—“ 

“No,” Zayn looked at the floor. “It’s okay. You’re a, you’re a gem, alright? I’ve learned a lot from you and—“ 

“This isn’t a permanent goodbye.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Zayn was so angry. “It seems like you’ve been wanting to go back. ‘Send the sun my love or some shit.’” 

Harry followed him further into the kitchen, “Zayn, I have more to tell you.” 

“I don’t,” Zayn put his hands on the counter to steady himself. “It’s okay, Harry, really.” 

“No, I—“

_ I love you. _ “Please go.” The tone of Zayn’s voice made Harry’s heart shatter. 

He looked back down to the ground and decided against touching Zayn, even though all his hand wanted to do was hold the side of Zayn’s face until he kissed it away. “I’ll be back. I swear on everything.” 

“I can’t do this right now,” Zayn gasped, walking away again. “Please go.” 

Harry looked at Zayn’s back and they stood in silence for a while, one feeling confused and the other feeling like this was some kind of practical joke from the universe. “We’ve been friends for almost two years and you’re just going to let me go like this?” 

Zayn was always good at being bitter, so yes. 

“I’m coming back for you.” 

He didn’t respond. Harry bit back a tear and turned around, grabbing his coat from the hook and running out the door. 

It felt like he was running out of home, so in a moment of confusion he turned around to look at the house, just to remind himself that it wasn’t his and probably never will be. Not now anyways. He didn’t understand what he did wrong, but maybe he’s getting overly sad about it. 

So he walked out of the gate backwards, still staring at the house up to Zayn’s window, wishing the light would flicker on and he’d see him crawling out to the tree again. 

But before he could give up, he bumped into another person on the pavement, making him lose his grip and fall backwards onto his behind. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m sorry,” The man he ran into was blonde and looked very fancy, at least fancy in Harry’s eyes, with nice blue eyes and a heavy looking watch. “Are you alright?” 

“No no no, it was my fault,” Harry got up and dusted himself off sheepishly, feeling too shy to look up at this very proper looking guy. “I should’ve looked where I was going.” 

“I think we all feel that way sometimes,” Blondie hummed, smiling a peculiar smile at him. “I know this is rude, but are you from America?” 

“Yeah, yeah I am,” Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “...Just visiting, though.” 

“My name is Niall,” Blondie outstretched his hand. “My family’s estate is down the block. It’s a very strange thing to see an American walking out of that house.” He pointed to said house, Harry’s head following the direction. 

“Why so?” Harry’s brow furrowed when he saw that Zayn’s bedroom light still wasn’t on. 

“Well,” Niall shrugged. “Because of that accident that happened when I was a kid, I remember I used to play with Zayn a lot, but afterward the incident he just never seemed to come outside.” 

Harry looked back at him, making very confrontational eye contact. “What accident?” 

Niall shook his head, “Ah. Sorry, I’ve said too much, it’s really not my place. He’s just my neighbor, and you’re the lad that I just ran over.” 

Harry nodded, understanding. “My name’s Harry Styles-Selley. My grandma lives down the street too.” 

“Selley,” Niall smiled again. “What a small world!” He clapped Harry on the back like they were friends. 

“I guess so?” Harry chuckled awkwardly. “Where are you from?” 

“My family’s Irish, but we live here more. And you?” 

“Los Angeles.” 

“That’s very cool.” 

“Yeah,” Harry looked back at Zayn’s house again and his voice went quiet. “I guess it is.” 

“Well, let me know if you’re ever back in London; I’ll buy you dinner.” Niall opened the keypad on his phone. “Number?” 

“Oh,” Harry smiled politely, giving it to him even though Niall could be a serial killer for all he knew. But he wasn’t really in the position to care. “Text me. I’ll be sure to keep in touch.” 

“Glad it was you I ran into tonight,” Niall’s eyes twinkled underneath the moonlight. “My family knows Miss Gertrude well.” 

“It seems almost every family in this neighborhood does,” Harry shrugged, laughed. “It’s like one big web of families that have too much to lose.” 

Niall howled at that, throwing his head back at how hilarious he thought it was, “Yeah, you’re very right.” 

“I better head.” Harry said and Niall nodded. They went their separate ways, Niall walking into the night as Harry stuck by the lampposts, each footfall feeling heavier than the next. 

Zayn will call him in the morning, he was sure of it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love you loads, please leave comments they make me really happy-j


	8. something bad is happening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, been a real flake recently. Just to let you know, after this chapter shit starts getting real. Like, graphic and angsty and absolutely just mortifyingly sad. 
> 
> **You're a juvenile success**  
**Because your face is a mess**  
**So how could they know?**  
**I said, how could they know?**  
-heroes, david bowie

**This is where shit starts to get weird. Enjoy! **

Zayn didn’t call him. 

Harry didn’t really know what to do, he couldn’t even bear to finish his fucking cereal in front of his family with the way he was glaring at his phone like it did him dirty. 

He had packed his bags for the time being in two large cases, messily and in a way that hoped all the contents would come back, that this wasn’t permanent. There was no way this would be permanent. 

He waited all day for Zayn to call him, but alas. He wondered if he should call him, but decided against it because of how stupid that’d be. It was already too late in the day anyways, he’d only look like he’d been expecting Zayn to call first. 

“I love you,” were the words he should’ve said. “Burn this phone number. Come to Los Angeles with me.” 

By the time it was five o’clock, Harry decided that he would straight up go to his house. Determined to say the words he meant from the beginning, he slipped on his coat and forgot his keys, walking down the street to Zayn’s massive estate. 

The security let him in easily enough, and the front door was opened by a few familiar faces, but when Harry walked up the stairs, the air didn’t quite feel the same. 

His heart was burning, but not like before. It was burning because it was missing something, so it’s useless now. Harry got to Zayn’s door, trying the knob first and his stomach dropped even more when he realized it was locked. “Zayn?” 

He knocked on the wood, letting the sounds echo in the hallway. “Zayn, it’s me.” 

When there was still no answer, Harry had to physically hold back a sob, because never in his life had he felt so idiotic. There were so many ways he could have dealt with last night, but instead he got caught up in his own emotions and ran out like a sissy. Of course Zayn wasn’t going to let him in. 

Maybe there’d be one way. 

“Zayn,” Harry started up again, knocking on the door. “Zayn, I…” His words trailed off when a tear slid down his face. God, this was awful. “Zayn, I love you.” 

There was still no answer. 

Harry leaned on the door, feeling bits of his heart break off and his eyebrows furrowing in a sad expression, waiting for at least a minute in poignant hopelessness. Suddenly, the door yanked open, and he fell onto the floor of the room with a yelp. 

Zayn looked angry and red in the face, mouth fixed into an adorable pout. “I’m…I can’t with you.” 

“Why not?” Harry rubbed his cheekbone in pain, groaning at the thought of it bruising from the impact of the hard floor. “It wasn’t a joke.” 

“Yeah, it was because  _ I’m _ a joke.” Zayn huffed, fist clenched around the doorknob. “I must be a joke if you thought you could tell me to see someone else while you were fucking me and then come over today without my permission to say that you love me out of the fucking blue.” 

Well, shit. “I’m sorry.” 

“Save it,” Zayn’s voice cracked, which only made him more upset as he stepped over Harry and jumped into his bed, coiling himself around the covers until he couldn’t be seen. “I don’t want to look at you.” 

Harry finally got his head to the point where it wasn’t spinning anymore, walking over to Zayn’s bed and sitting at the edge. “Zaynie,” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Harry sighed. “Zaynie,  _ I’m _ the one who’s the joke if you think that I was never in love with you this entire time.” 

Zayn didn’t say anything, just balled up more into the bed. 

“I love you,” Harry said it again, and he thought his tongue was going to leap from his throat. “I love you so, so much. More than anyone I’ve ever loved in this entire world.” 

Zayn shifted, and Harry noticed. “And Zayn, I meant it when I said that I’m coming back for you. After all, I have to finish school and my grandma’s eventually going to want me back—“ 

“So why are you leaving at all?” Zayn mumbled, kicking at his comforter in an attempt to shove Harry away. “If you’re going to come back—“

“My mom’s not doing well,” Harry cut Zayn off. “My sister needs a lot of help running the company, so I have to go. I’m sorry. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I’m coming back for you, I swear.” 

Zayn finally let his head poke out from the blanket, looking at Harry with his big, sad, golden eyes. “You don’t know how long it’ll take?” 

Harry’s eyes fluttered softly, “I don’t.” 

“Then…” Zayn gulped. “Why even come back for me?” 

Something that like should’ve stabbed Harry’s heart, but it actually vaporized it, leaving him slightly breathless. “Do you…do you mean that?” 

“Harry, we all know that you can do a lot better than me,” Zayn’s eyes were welling up. “I'm psychotic, a drug addict, and I’ve got nothing going for me anymore. I don’t want my entire life to be waiting for you to come back just so you can lift me up until the day you decide you’ve had enough.” 

“Zayn, your words hurt,” Harry shook his head, and caressed his cheek. “Honestly, I don’t know where you learned to talk like that.” 

Zayn sniffled, “I’m done waiting for people to do right by me. Maybe I never deserved to be done right by at all.” 

“You’re being so dramatic,” 

That was the worst thing Harry could’ve said. Zayn’s eyes faltered even more, and the glow of his irises dimmed as he gently pushed Harry’s hand away. “I…I guess so.” 

Harry didn’t mean to make him so sad, “I was just joking…” 

“No, it’s okay.” Zayn stood up and got out of bed before Harry could touch him. “I uh,” 

“Zayn,” Harry stood up as well, but it only made Zayn step back more. “Please.” 

“I’ve got my own shit to deal with, don’t you think?” Zayn looked frail and weak and tired. “I  _ know _ I’m dramatic,” fat tears began to roll off his chin. “I  _ know _ .” 

“Wait, that’s not what I—“ 

“I don’t need it, Hazza, I don’t,” Zayn covered his mouth as his vision blurred. “I just want—I just wanted—“ In the next moment, Harry grabbed his arm and yanked him forwards, Zayn screamed as he fell towards his chest. 

“Zayn,” Harry’s voice was low and warning, and a chill went down his spine at the sound. “Stop it.” 

He glared up at him and struggled, “Fuck you.” 

Harry’s eyes flashed and he threw Zayn onto the bed, crawling over him and they weakly wrestled, tiring Zayn out until he couldn’t do anything but kick at Harry’s stomach from underneath him. “Zayn.” 

“I’m so mad at you,” Zayn sobbed, still trying to hit at him. “Ow.” He squeaked when his wrist finally succeeded in knocking Harry on the head, mouth falling slightly open when he closed his eyes. 

Harry let go of him to hold his head for a second, Zayn holding his breath in the meantime as he waited for a reaction. 

He honestly should have expected it when Harry pinned him down, shoved his head to the side as his teeth met his neck and bit down. He screamed again, struggling against his alpha with pain shooting down his body, the latter not letting go until he relaxed. 

A maid appeared in the doorway, having heard Zayn’s screams, and Harry snapped his head up to growl at her. She visibly froze, and Zayn groaned, tilting his head upside down with teary eyes, “Please close the door.” He sniffed and hid his face on Harry’s neck as she complied, fluttering her eyes in complete confusion. Harry murmured something that Zayn couldn’t catch, but when he tried to move, Harry didn’t let him, just kept him there. 

They lay like that for a few minutes, Harry breathing into Zayn’s neck and him doing the same. It took a few more minutes for Zayn to realize that Harry was crying. “Hazza?” 

“Please don’t be mad at me,” Harry was letting out soft pants onto Zayn’s skin, and although his neck was sore, of course he wasn’t actually mad. “Please.” 

“Hazza, I’m not…” Zayn’s words were cut off by Harry letting out another soft sob, and his eyes fluttered shut. “I love you too,” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,”

“I know.” 

Harry pulled back a little, looking so cute and sad and shy, leaning forwards to trap Zayn’s lips into a kiss. He settled himself more between his legs, hands traveling down to his waist as their kiss deepened. “You’re so small, it’s so fucking cute.” 

“Oh, shush,” Zayn shimmied out of his pants, yanking at the elastic of Harry’s to let him know he wanted them off. They went back to it, his hands wrapping around his neck and legs bent and up in the air. “Hazza, ‘m cold.” 

“Yeah?” Harry pulled the comforter from underneath them with an insane amount of strength, tossing it over his shoulder so that both of them could be covered. “C’mere.” His hand snaked down to Zayn’s entrance, two fingers dipping into his hole to test how wet he had gotten. Just by getting bit and manhandled a bit, Zayn was soaking Harry’s palm. 

“Hazza,” There were whimpers as he was pushed down harder. “Please, just, please.” 

“Please what?” Harry’s lips ghosted over Zayn’s, the room so cold that they could see their breath. When Zayn closed his eyes, Harry took his fingers out and used his knee to split his legs wider, hands pressing on the backs of his knees. “C’mere, babe.” 

“Fuck,” Zayn sweared, reaching for Harry’s leg as he pushed in, breaching his hole and pinning his arms down. “Harry, fuck.” 

“Yeah? You good?” Harry kissed him again, touching noses. “You gotta tell me what you want, babe.” 

“I want to hold you,” Zayn twitched his lips and pouted at him. “Please?” 

Harry smiled and nodded, moving to press more into Zayn as he flipped them over so that he was straddling him. He pulled Zayn close to his chest, burying his head into his neck and inhaling deeply. “Better?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn breathed out, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. “So much better.” His next words were cut off when Harry thrusted upwards, gripping his torso tight with his teeth sunk into his neck. 

“You are the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Harry giggled, relishing in the way Zayn spread his legs just a bit more. 

* * *

“You won’t forget me, right?” Harry asked, circling Zayn’s skin with his fingers. “Promise me.” 

Zayn scoffed, grabbing Harry’s hand and holding it still. They turned the fireplace on and were now spooning, the orange glow illuminating something inside of them that resembled time lost. “How could I ever forget you?”

“Now that’s a question,” Harry looked off into the ceiling, blinking so slowly it was as if he was trying to catch dust with his eyelids. “That is definitely a question.” 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Zayn fumbled as he rolled on top of him, making Harry groan and laugh low in his chest. “I’m not forgetting you, Harry Styles. You’re only going to be gone for a few months, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry reassured him, softly kissing his face. “I can’t stay away from you for very long.” 

“You’re being so cryptic, it’s unlike you,” Zayn twiddled with Harry’s hair. “If you leave, ‘m gonna cry.” 

“Please don’t, I’ll actually stay,” Harry begged. “Yeah, I…I have to go back. For a lot of reasons.” 

Zayn twitched his lips and smiled sadly. “Your mum being one of them?” 

“Yeah, my mom runs the company by herself, since my dad is...retired. She expects me to take over, and so does my grandma.” Harry sighed. 

“And what are the other reasons?” 

Harry’s eyes snapped up. “Hm?” 

“You’re leaving for lots of reasons,” Zayn gulped, nuzzling his face into Harry’s neck. “You gave me one.” 

Harry laughed breathily, lifting his eyebrows up and down. “Well, I can’t tell you the other reasons.” 

Zayn frowned. “Why not?” 

“If I told you, it’d be bad,” Harry cocked his head back and forth. “Really bad.” 

“Alright, then,” Zayn shrugged, and scooted closer. “Tell me when you come back.” He intertwined their fingers. “I know this seems desperate, I know I do, but,” He shook his head in preparation for his next line, “I love you. And I can’t live without you.” 

Harry shook his head right back, “That doesn’t sound desperate ‘cause I feel the same way.” 

Zayn’s breath caught and his eyes went wide, and Harry could feel his heart thumping just a little bit faster. “You mean that?” 

“Are you serious?” Harry deadpanned, shaking his head as he tossed it back onto the pillow. “Zayn Malik, you are a knockout.” 

“Shut up!” Zayn gasped, slapping his chest lightly. “You’re so bloody awful, Harry, I don’t need you to make me fall in love with you even harder right before you leave.” 

“Sorry,” Harry shrugged. “Think of it as a promise. I’m always gonna find my way back to you.” 

Zayn moved his tongue around his teeth and sighed, shifting his body again. “Okay, then. I’ll see you soon. Don’t leave while I’m asleep. Wake me up, alright?” 

Harry kissed him one last time. “Of course, babe. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

They fell asleep, just like that, holding hands with Harry’s lips ghosting over Zayn’s head. 

* * *

“There’s going to be an afterparty after this,” Niall whispered in Charlie’s ear. “You look beautiful.” 

Charlie flushed, looking over at him before slapping his chest. “Shh, no talking in the theater.” He whispered back, smiling as he said it. 

“How do you like it so far?” Niall had his hand gripped in his, softly brushing over his knuckles with his thumb. 

Charlie raised an eyebrow, captivated by the dancers. “What did I just say?” 

“Hm,” Niall smirked, and they knocked heads, enjoying the orchestra and glittering costumes. “I guess you’re liking it.” 

* * *

Zayn made it a point to drive with Harry all the way to the airport, where there was a jet waiting with the Selley-Styles emblem adorning the outside. This wasn’t a conflicting sight, what was more conflicting was the way Zayn’s heart stopped when Harry got out of the car. “Wait.” He grabbed his hand, and Harry slowly turned around. 

Harry gave him a knowing smirk, curling one end of his lips as he leaned forward to kiss Zayn. “I promise.” 

“Okay,” Zayn breathed shakily, letting go of Harry’s shirt with trembling fingers. “God, just go. Fuck.” 

Harry laughed and kissed him one last time touching noses, then finally left the car and shut the door. Zayn watched in earnest as he went up the stairs, an attendant following with numerous cases, waving goodbye. 

“Goodbye.” Zayn whispered, and the driver gave him a few more minutes before turning the car around. He slumped in his seat, trying to gulp away the knot in his throat as the plane went farther and farther from his view. This shit hurt. 

Harry didn’t really know how to think, seeing how he was being strapped into his grandmother’s plane back to New York, then to Los Angeles, licking the already dry air off of his lips. “Have you ever fallen in love?” He asked one of the flight attendants, who blinked at him before shaking her head. 

“I don’t believe in love,” She shrugged. “I’d rather travel.” 

Harry scoffed to himself, leaning over and rubbing at his temples. “Of course. Of course you’d say that.” 

The jet roared with no warning, startling the absolute fuck out of Harry before he could dramatically sigh again. The same flight attendant came back around with a hot towel, smiling mechanically as she handed him a menu. “You’ll get hungry. Order something!” 

Harry thought their dialogue was supposed to be a lot more censored than that. “Uh—alright.” 

_ “And what are the other reasons?”  _

Harry blinked, then rubbed at his eyelids. Suddenly, four hours had passed, and the jet was dark. The attendants had somehow managed to set up the bed without moving Harry, and he also had no memory of eating the meal he chose. He sat up, groggily looking around as his head throbbed with increased cabin pressure. 

“ _ Tell me when you come back.”  _

“How?” Harry said out loud, making someone pop their head out to peer at him. He waved them away politely, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “How am I supposed to…” He leaned back onto his seat-bed, staring at the ceiling lights. “...tell you?” 

He shut his eyes, every part of his body submitting to the bed, and as he drifted off, he could hear a voice speaking to him. 

_ “You promised me a story,” Harry whines, kicking his feet under the covers as his dad chuckles, flicking on the lamp. “Dad.”  _

_ “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Harry’s dad smiles, gently lowering himself onto the bed with a hand reaching out to ruffle Harry’s thick head of hair. “I think I got one for you.”  _

_ “Really?” Harry’s mom enters the room, raising an eyebrow at his dad. “Today? We’re doing this today?” She rolls her eyes before turning around, Harry shimmying in his place on the bed.  _

_ “There was once, before we were so rudely interrupted,” Harry’s dad calls down the hall. “A woman. She was real pretty, right? And she had this secret ability,” He reaches over for the notepad on the nightstand, taking the cap off of a pen with his teeth and scribbling all over it. “Where she could travel across time.”  _

_ “How?” Harry pipes up, big round eyes peering up at him. He was always one to ask the hard questions.  _

_ “Well,” Harry’s dad sputters, finishing his drawing and turning around to show him. “She lived on a farm where there were lots of rivers and lakes surrounding it. Wherever there’s large bodies of water, there’s lots of wind. Your mom’s told you stories about how the wind sings, right? Fables from different cultures here and there.” The drawing was of a woman with long hair, drifting on what looked to be a cloud.  _

_ “Mhm,” Harry takes it into his hands, studying it.  _

_ “The wind takes her away, to a time long ago. Any time. Any where,” His dad ruffles his head again. “Your great grandmother is pretty cool, huh?”  _

_ Harry’s head snaps towards him so fast it nearly cracks. “Woah, really?”  _

_ “Mhm,” His dad laughs. “One day, maybe you’ll be able to soar across the sky. Hey, did you feed the fish yet?” He asks, looking over at the desktop aquarium. “He’s all showing off and stuff.” _

_ Harry looks over and exclaims, “Oops, I forgot,” He lifts himself out of the bed, together with his dad going to feed the critter a few flakes. “Can you time travel, dad?” He asks, breaking eye contact from the tank to peer up at his father.  _

_ His father just laughs, “Sure, bud.”  _

_ “Can you take me with you sometime? I wanna go to—“  _

_ “Woah there,” He pats Harry’s head fondly. “It’s not easy, you know. There are lots and lots of rules…” His words trail off as he stares out the window, the full moon shining down at them. “It’s just a story, though. A fun one she liked to tell.”  _

_ “Oh,” Harry pouts in disappointment, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s no fun.”  _

_ “Trust me, it really isn’t,” His dad picks him up, puts him back to bed, kisses his forehead, and turns the lamp off. He walks out with a soft smile on his face. “Goodnight, Haz.”  _

_ “‘Night, old man.”  _

* * *

Charlie was on his third glass of soapy-tasting champagne as he watched Niall dazzle the entire room, elegant voices of all timbres echoing and bouncing off of the walls. He was leaning against the wall, which he assumed was improper, but it wasn’t like anyone was looking at him. 

God, just look at him. 

Charlie hummed to himself, feeling buzzed yet strangely enlightened, smiling easily when Niall laughed hard at something someone said. He was a natural. 

They were all in a circle, conversing in their top-tier attire and rank and wealth, and his Niall fit right in. Charlie had bargained for another glass of champagne instead of attempting to step into that circle. 

Did he really want that, though? To always be on the outside, he’s always been an outsider, but now it’s ten times more infuriating when he’s gotten so close. 

They aren’t talking about anything he had any knowledge of, whenever he did catch their eyes they glared, and if he was being explicitly honest he smuggled a flask into the afterparty and was feeling the effects of whiskey mixed with bubbly in his stomach. 

However, he was coherent enough to decide that he didn’t want this. 

So he set his stupidly expensive cup down, and left. 

He didn’t care what would happen, what people would say. Needing to be left alone, he slowly dragged himself through the doors and into the parking lot, the lamplights flickering with his shadow. 

Sometimes, it was good to be alone. 

He didn’t need a reason to get up and leave, it’s all about the feeling, right? 

* * *

Waiting for Harry to come back was one of the hardest things Zayn has ever done in his entire life. And he’s been through several consecutive months of physical therapy and psychiatrist visits from the incredibly traumatic event bestowed upon him when he was little. 

He passed all his classes, and made sure to let Harry know, even though he rarely responded because of how busy he was.

The promise of one month then became two, then three, and Zayn’s heart was frozen in time, stubborn and unwilling to flow blood into the rest of his body, his entire family and both Louis and Liam poking him to see if he was still alive. 

He decided that he couldn’t wait much longer, and so at night, after therapy, he drove himself to the Advantage. Walking in, the lady at the cashier smiled a smile so wide Zayn thought her lips would rip, and he followed the scents without her guidance to the one person he was vaguely familiar with. 

“Charlie, right?” He asked, pointing rudely at the boy in the booth. Charlie chuckled breathily, nodding and beckoning him closer. “Do you remember me?” 

Charlie was so gorgeous, a jaw and cheekbones chiseled by God himself. “Of course I remember you, Mr. Malik. You’re the one that went into heat and ran out. Did it work out with the guy?” He lit a cigarette, the lighter clicking with exertion. 

Zayn gulped, watching him take a hit long and slow, as though the pain of the smoke was just as pure as mountain air. “Not really, I don’t think. Stayed together for a year,” 

“Impressive,” 

“He left for America.” 

“There it is.” 

Charlie shook his head, leaning forwards to ruffle Zayn’s hair with the cigarette still in his mouth. “It’s alright, man. There are billions of alphas in the sea.” 

Zayn shook his head right back at him, “I’m in love with him and I think I just might die if he doesn’t come back.” 

Charlie lifted an eyebrow, staring Zayn down right into his soul. “I’m wondering if you really mean that or not.” 

Zayn twitched his lips and looked down at his lap, “Have you ever been in love, Charlie? Like genuinely, just super super infatuated and consumed.” 

“I guess I have, we’re trapped in the same boat, unfortunately. Mine didn’t leave, I did,” Charlie took another drag, and stuck the cigarette in between Zayn’s parted lips. “And it fucking hurts.” 

Zayn breathed in, eyes fluttering shut in shameful release. “Why’d you leave?” 

Charlie smiled small, one that suggested he couldn’t even believe it himself. “London is one big city, Zayn. We’re from opposite sides of it, and it might as well be two different planet. He deserves better anyways, and I knew he’d try to stop me if I tried breaking up in person, and so in the spur of the moment my heart told me to go. Now here I am, working a little overtime to cover the rent of my absolutely shitty, cockroach infested flat.” 

Zayn cocked his head to the side as Charlie took the cig back, “I don’t understand. If you were in love with him…” 

“Sometimes, hate is the only way for someone to forget about the person they once loved. I figured Niall would figure that out. Unless he thinks I’m dead, and that works too,” Charlie gulped, and he reached up to brush the hair out of his face before continuing, “You know when you gotta let go, right?” 

Zayn still didn’t understand, but by the way Charlie looked like he was about to start sobbing, he bit back any further questions. “Hey, don’t cry. You’ll get mascara all over your face,” He leaned forwards to wipe the threatening tear from the corner of Charlie’s eye. “Gorgeous boys like you shouldn’t ever cry.” 

Charlie snorted, “ _ You _ telling  _ me _ ?” He leaned forward to kiss Zayn’s cheek, who flushed. “Sorry, you’re not even officially broken up yet, are you?” 

Zayn shook his head, biting his lip, “We never even established what we were before he left.” 

“Alright then,” Charlie scooted closer and pulled Zayn’s waist in. “‘Cause I wanna kiss you.” 

“What?” Zayn sputtered, all of a sudden feeling sweaty. “Why?” He said dumbly, and Charlie pulled back to give him a look. 

Charlie sighed, reaching out to comb through Zayn’s hair. “Nevermind then, probably shouldn’t. It’s so not me, following the rules. Let’s just smoke, I’ll let you do it for free.” 

Zayn’s glaze softened, and out of nowhere, he reached to touch Charlie’s face. “You have a cut here.” 

“I keep bad company,” Charlie smiled, and leaned forwards to press their foreheads together. “Did you know that omegas used to be whipped for committing sexual acts with another omega?” 

“Well, that’s shit, innit?” Zayn could feel Charlie’s breath on his lips. “I’m glad that I live in this century.”

“They’d never kill one, too rare and valuable,” Charlie reached to tug Zayn even closer, “So if you ask me, I bet they all did it. Would you?” 

Zayn finally had their lips meet, and although it felt so wrong, there was something immeasurably cathartic about the feeling of another person’s warmth on his skin. He knew he shouldn’t be here, but something told him that Charlie shouldn’t either. 

“Let me take you out,” Zayn pulled away before Charlie could swoop down to his neck. “Let’s get you out of here.” 

Charlie froze, only laughed in his usual sleepy and dizzy manner when he realized Zayn was serious. “Careful, the last person who said that to me ended up getting stuck with me for a whole year.” 

Zayn snorted, and pinched Charlie’s cheek. “Nah, I promise just as friends. This club smells like…hopelessness and restraints. You seem like the kind of person who doesn’t want to be hopeless.” 

Charlie shook his head, “Seriously, is this some kind of trend? It’s like everyone’s telling me that I should try harder.” 

“Maybe you hear it so much because it’s true,” Zayn shrugged. “Or are you sick of the North?” 

“Quite frankly, I think I’d vomit.” Charlie chuckled, his eyelids feeling hot. “Hey Zayn, I think you should go home and call him, your guy.” 

Zayn shrugged again, “He won’t answer, he had two phones and not an international line, so it’s dead.”

Charlie bit his lip, then a lightbulb flashed in his head. “I have an American phone,” Charlie said excitedly, “One of my customers bought it for me because he wanted me to keep in touch. “Maybe you can call your guy with it?” 

A hopeful Zayn straightened up in his seat. “Maybe.” 

Charlie smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling his hesitation out of the booth. “It’s in my file somewhere, Annie said to keep it hidden in case any of the other birds try to steal it.” 

“Ah,” Zayn blushed, his heart beating a million miles a minute. “Wait—“ 

“Nah, you’re calling him,” Charlie interrupted, pulling Zayn into the office. “I want you to call him.” 

“And you care so much because…?” Zayn jumped as the door slammed shut, the meticulously placed desk and its papers greeting him with mystery. “Charlie, what’s that?” He pointed to his ankle, which now became fully visibly due to the circumstances. 

Charlie was busy picking the lock for the cabinet, pin in between his teeth and one ear pressed to the metal. “What’s what?” 

Zayn came forward and bent down to gently feel at Charlie’s ankle. “Your ankle. It’s purple.” 

“Oh, uh,” Charlie pulled his pant leg lower to conceal the blue and purple injury, looking at Zayn like he should shut up. “It’s nothing, I just fell.” 

Zayn didn’t believe him, “Okay, I believe you. Why are you picking the lock, don’t you have a key for it?” 

Charlie turned his head to flash him a sly smile just as the lock turned, “Nope.” 

“Well then, I’m pretty sure this is illegal.” Zayn commented unhelpfully as Charlie rummaged through all the folders. 

“Babe, half of the things we do in this club are illegal, it’s kind of our brand,” Charlie smiled again when he found his folder, “Look at that, I still have it.” He tossed the phone up into the air and caught it, handing it to Zayn with utmost fragility. 

“I don’t know his number,” Zayn pointed out, and Charlie groaned. “But I can try asking my mum if she knows.” 

“Babe, what are we to do with you?” Charlie asked, smile sad and melancholic. There was something poignant about him, and Zayn couldn’t quite place it. The way his eyes stabbed and turned through to his soul, or maybe it was just the striking beauty unparalleled to any man he’d ever seen. His mum, ever the fast responder, sent him a widget of all of Harry’s contact information, and he excitedly showed Charlie with a bright smile on his face. 

“Well, do it now!” Charlie giggled, watching the door. 

“Okay,” Zayn breathed out, and then inhaled sharply, “Okay.” 

Charlie tsked, “Don’t be frightened by such a thing, babe. You can get any man you want.” 

Zayn tossed him a look as his finger hovered over the call button. “You not telling me how you actually got hurt is like me not telling you just why I’m undesirable.” 

Charlie blinked at him, then looked down. “You know Niall?” 

“Yeah, he used to live a block from me. But then he moved out into his own flat with his boyfriend,” Zayn’s hands were starting to shake. “Or that’s what I’ve heard. Was it you?” 

Charlie breathed out a hum, then nodded. “It was a really nice flat.” 

“He’s a really nice guy,” Zayn clenched his eyes shut just as he pressed down, nearly choking when the ringing started. “So it does work, that’s…” 

“Hello?” 

Zayn shot a panicked expression at Charlie, face stricken with sudden worry and eyes so wide. He couldn’t move his mouth, and so Charlie took the phone out of his grasp and put it on speaker. 

“Hi, is this Harry Selley-Styles?” He asked, to which Zayn looked even more confused as to how Charlie knew his name. 

“Uh, yeah?” Harry sounded pensive, and Zayn began to hit his head on the wall. 

“My name is Charlie, and there’s a boy who’s been wanting to call you for a really long time,” He shoved it towards Zayn, who shook his head with a red bruise on his forehead. “Say something, Zayn.” 

“Zayn?” Something in Harry’s voice lightened, and it made Zayn sob harder, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Zayn?” 

Charlie wanted to push at it, but when Zayn finally scrambled away from the floor hyperventilating, he realized just how badly he’d fucked up. “Uh, sorry. Uh—“ He tried to get up a bit too quickly, resulting in landing on his already hurt ankle in a bad position. “Ah, fuck!” 

“What the hell is this?” Harry’s voice shook, and now Zayn was in the other corner of the room with his head between his knees. “Zayn?” 

“Uh, sorry,” Charlie stammered, “Wrong number.” He quickly hung up and limped over to Zayn, reaching out for his face to tuck into his neck. “Sorry, that wasn’t it, was it?” 

“The truth is, Charlie, we could’ve called long ago,” Zayn hiccupped, unable to get his words out in between his breaths. “But we… fuck, I can’t do this anymore.” He tried to lift himself again, but Charlie only pulled him back down. 

“Your life is not defined by the men who’re in it, it’s defined by what you do to them,” Charlie wiped his tears away. “Trust me when I say that you aren’t where I am right now, and that’s a good thing, alright?” 

Zayn finally opened his eyes, prompting Charlie to coo at him. His eyes traveled lower. “Charlie.” 

“Hm?” Charlie asked, still trying to scent him for comfort. 

“What’s…” Zayn lifted Charlie’s long sleeve even farther up, “You’re going to tell me that’s from falling?” He pointed to the giant hand shaped bruise on his forearm, and Zayn shook his head. “Let’s go, Charlie. To the hospital.” 

“I’m not going to the hospital, I can’t afford it,” Charlie chuckled, patting the top of Zayn’s fluffy head. “Really, it’s okay. I’ve survived through worse, and it doesn’t even hurt now, yeah?” 

“No,” Zayn pointed to the hair thin gash on the side of Charlie’s face. “I can pay for the expenses. After all, it’d be bad if that and—“ He pulled Charlie’s leg up to inspect another wound on his shin. “—got all scarred. Bad—bad for business, right?” 

Charlie surrendered, “I guess.” 

Zayn gulped and hugged him again. “You’re a real gem, Charlie. Stay here, I’ll put the file back and call an uber.” 

In the commotion, a few papers had accidentally slid out of Charlie’s file, and as Zayn reached to pick them up, he turned one over and cocked his head at it. 

“I was the possession of that cannot be reversed, yet here I find myself, in this same meadow and forest, dreaming of a time where my road forked into an infinite number of trials,” 

“That’s a poem my grandpa used to say to me all the time, that’s his handwriting. I wanted to keep it somewhere safe.” Charlie explained

“The wind whispered secrets to me, and when I turned it swept me away,” Zayn read out loud, “To a river, a forest, and a man that I had left behind.” 

“Hm,” Charlie smiled at him. 

“What does it mean?” Zayn inquired. 

“I have absolutely no fucking idea.” 

And the loneliness became slightly lighter. 

* * *

Harry soared back to the UK after the business was handled, the 10 hour flight making his ass go numb and his feet tingle. It was all worth it though, for when they finally landed he turned on his UK phone and immediately called the first person he wanted to hear the voice of. “Zayn?” 

“Hi, Harry,” Zayn’s voice was soft and sounded like he was trying to keep in a giggle. “Uh, so I guess you’re back then?” 

“You didn’t have too much fun without me, did you?” Harry kicked a random rock away. 

Zayn merely laughed, “Did you?” 

Harry shook his head as if Zayn could see him, “No, I actually didn’t have any  _ fun _ at all. I just want to see you.” 

“About that…” Zayn’s words trailed off, and Harry stopped in his tracks to dramatically frown. “I don’t think we can meet this week.” 

“How, how come?” Harry sputtered, grunting as he stepped into the car and shut the door. “Is something wrong?” 

“Well, nothing’s necessarily wrong, just…I made a new friend—“ 

“What?” Harry’s eyes went wide and his heart instantly went into a panic. “What new friend—“ 

“Calm down, he’s an omega. I’m trying to help him with some things, and he’s living with me right now. I don’t think he really wants to be in the presence of any alpha at the moment. Also, Niall’s coming.” 

“Niall?” Harry was getting increasingly confused. “Wait wait wait, why?” 

“Oh, just come over here then, you twat.” Zayn huffed, eventually surrendering and hanging up. 

“Okay,” Harry cringed a bit, sighing. “Alright.” 

“Hey Charlie, babe, can you sit up for me?” Zayn asked softly, bent over the figure lying helpless on his bedroom floor. “Babe, what happened?” 

“I dunno,” Charlie wheezed, “I just got dizzy.” 

“C’mere,” Zayn outstretched his arms and they both began to wrap around each other on the floor. “It’s ‘sokay.” 

“I don’t know if it is, Zaynie-bee,” Charlie giggled. “Really, you didn’t have to do this.” 

“I wasn’t going to let you live with that motherfucker anymore,” Zayn adamantly pressed his nose against Charlie’s neck. “I’m gonna protect you.” 

Charlie giggled and kissed Zayn’s cheek, “Thank you, my brave knight.” 

“And I’m sorry for going against your word, but…” 

“Hm?” 

The door creaked open slightly, and a footstep thud past the threshold. Charlie could smell who it was. “Oh, fuck you, Zaynie.” 

“Sorry,” Zayn kissed his cheeks in apology. “I had to.” 

“You didn’t have to,” Charlie groaned, turning over on his side. “You really didn’t.” 

“Char,” 

Charlie began to sob, Zayn got up off the floor and scampered away. 

“Char,” A knee cracked and Charlie heard the person bend down, a hand coming up to hover over his waist. “Please look at me.” 

“No,” Charlie became instantly aware of all his injuries, and self-consciously brought them closer to his chest. “No, please.” 

Niall sighed softly, and the came hand down and Charlie felt himself being tugged towards him. “Please look at me, my love.” Niall cradled Charlie in his arms. 

“I’m not your love,” Charlie refused, but melted when he felt Niall gently nose the back of his neck, breathing him in. “God, stop it.” 

“Come on,” Niall breathed in again. “Don’t make me beg more than I already have.” 

“Sorry,” Charlie finally reached up behind him to Niall, then spun around and hugged his neck. “Sorry.” 

“Who did this, baby?” Niall let the pet name roll off his tongue, holding Charlie’s wrist in his hand and his face with the other. “Tell me.” 

“I fell.” Charlie said in a way that suggested he knew it was bullshit but there was no way he was going to budge from his answer. 

“Yeah, you fell on your eye socket too?” Niall clicked his tongue and gathered Charlie onto his lap. “I’m not gonna ask what you don’t want me to ask, but I will say that I don’t understand you, Chartreuse.” 

“Yeah,” Charlie drawled, and Niall rubbed his neck again, just to let him know that he’d ground him. “Ni.” 

“Yeah, baby, c’mere.” Niall lifted his legs up around his waist and stood, walking them over to the bed where he could inspect just the extent of what time had done to Charlie. 

He had bruises and cuts everywhere. 

And Charlie would never admit it, but Noah had been back in town for the past three weeks. 

“Turn your head over,” Niall ordered, and Charlie shook his head in defiance. “Char.” 

“No,” Charlie “Ni, give up.” 

Niall sighed and turned Charlie’s cheek over, leaning down to bite down harshly into the soft skin. He didn’t let go until he felt Charlie relax underneath him, pulling off and kissing the spot. He lifted himself up, “I’m gonna close the door, okay?” 

“Okay,” Charlie nodded and stared blankly at the ceiling. “Ni.” 

“Yeah, baby. I know,” Niall came back to the bed, laying down next to Charlie and tucking his head until his chin. “You are going to be the death of me, Chartreuse Beau Axton, and I’m only saying your full name to match how ridiculous this situation is.” 

“Ni,” Charlie complained, softly mouthing at his neck. “I’m gonna drop.” 

“I know, baby, it’s okay,” Niall wrapped him up with the covers and softly kissed his forehead. “I’m gonna hold your neck, okay?” 

“I don’ wanna drop,” Charlie whimpered as Niall’s fingers rested utop his spot. “Scary.” 

“Baby, you’ve been fighting it for weeks, I can tell,” Niall whispered gently, making sure that Charlie was secure in his arms. “Trying to fight it makes it worse, baby.” 

“Don’t leave.” Charlie begged, and Niall pressed. 

“I would never,” Niall heard him sigh softly before his eyes fluttered shut. “I love you.” 

* * *

“Please kiss me,” Harry begged just as he stepped past the doormat. “Please, I need a kiss.” 

“Shh,” Zayn sighed exasperatedly. “Harry, my sister is in the other room.” 

“I love you,” 

“Okay, chief,” Zayn giggled through a red face, and got the wind knocked out of his face when Harry pulled him into his arms. “Don’t kiss me here.” 

“Then let’s go into your room.” 

“Niall’s in my room.” 

“Why is Niall in your room?” 

“Niall  _ and _ Charlie are in my room.” 

“Why—“ 

A sudden crash stopped Harry’s words as the window next to them shattered into a million pieces, Zayn’s scream making his eardrums bleed. 

“Fuck!” Zayn screamed again, falling onto the ground as his entire body shook. His breath was slowing, his vision blurred into one huge streak of white, the sounds around him slowly muffled, and the next thing he knew his head hit the floor and everything became dark. 

“Zayn,” Harry panted, rushing across the floor to grab him as multiple people ran out because of the commotion. “Darling, you okay? Can you hear me?” 

“He dropped,” Safaa murmured, stopping in her tracks to run the other way. 

“Dropped?” Harry questioned, brushing the hair out of Zayn’s face. “Baby, you hear me?” 

Zayn’s eyes were glassy and his body was floating in space, he could hear footsteps rushing down the stairs calling his name, someone touching his face, but what was the loudest was the sound of something jumping through the broken window. 

“Rub his arms and back,” He heard people say, and the hand that was touching his face soon ran friction and heat all along his body, another touching his neck to try and coax him out of the drop. He didn’t want to come out. Someone was trying to get him through the window. 

“Darling?” Harry gasped a sigh of relief when Zayn blinked, stiff in his arms. “Oh thank god you’re okay.” 

“Someone,” Zayn sputtered, gripping Harry’s shirt with two fists, “Someone’s coming through the window.” 

“Huh?” 

“There’s a ladder,” Zayn begged, still too weak to move, “They’re gonna get me.” 

Harry’s eyes softened as he placed a kiss to Zayn’s lips. “Baby, no one’s coming up the window.” 

“Yes they are,” Zayn sobbed, heart beating wildly as the panic rose from his toes. “I heard it, Hazza,”

“I know,” Harry cooed, hugging Zayn tight. “But there’s no one at the window, baby. Look.” 

He turned them around, much to Zayn’s behest, until he could see from the corner of his eye that the window was in fact empty, and no scary person was coming up to get him. “We’re on the first floor, aren’t we?” 

Harry smiled, “Yeah.” 

Zayn whimpered again, so Harry held him closer as the maids cleaned up the mess. 

“Sir?” One of them asked, looking at Harry with wide eyes. “They broke the window with a brick. There’s a note attached to it.” 

“What’s it say?” Zayn whispered, flinching when she walked over to bring it to him. 

“It says,” Harry frowned. “ _ ‘Tell the pretty bird up there that he’s fucking dead _ .’” 

Zayn dug his face into Harry’s neck and tried to steady his breathing. “Charlie.” 

Harry didn’t say anything, but Zayn heard his heart jump as the former placed a kiss on his head. “We’ll figure it out. Baby, you wanna go upstairs?” 

“You called me ‘darling,’” Zayn murmured as Harry easily stood up with Zayn still clinging to his chest. “I liked it.” 

“I’ll take care of you, darling,” Harry smiled against his skin, walking up the stairs. “Your room?” 

“No,” 

“Alright,” Harry didn’t question it, just chose a different room to kick open and lay Zayn down in. “Zayn, I’m never leaving again.” 

“Good,” Zayn panted, and shimmied his pants off as he tugged at Harry’s shirt. “I need you, c’mon.” 

“Fuck,” Harry panted, eyes rolling around in disbelief when the smell of Zayn’s slick hit the air. He quickly got rid of their clothes, slightly ripping his shirt in his haste to grab Zayn’s ass and smack it around. “Fuck.” 

“Please,” Zayn whined, face flat against the bedsheets as Harry lifted his hips high into the air. “Hazza.” 

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, mouth dropping open when he put a finger past the tight rim of his hole, immediately getting addicted to the hot and tight walls clenching around him. “Shit baby, you’re too tight.” 

“No I’m not,” Zayn retorted, smacking Harry’s hands away and turning himself over. “I’m not some fragile virgin, Harry.” He huffed in frustration, spreading his legs wider and reaching a hand in between them. He made a soft noise just as he made eye contact with Harry, which resulted in the latter’s head exploding. 

“Feel good, baby?” Harry’s voice was low and gruff, gently rubbing at Zayn’s side as he nosed all along his skin. “Waited for me?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn whined, biting his lips as he reached in a third finger, which was when Harry finally gave him a kiss. “Harry,” 

Harry moaned, blinking furiously as Zayn’s scent powered through the air, and Harry couldn’t help but life himself right in between his legs and run his hands up Zayn’s soft inner thighs. “Fucking beautfiul.” 

“Thanks,” Zayn shifted, nervously watching as Harry leaned forwards to kiss him again. “Need you.” 

“S’okay, darling, I’m not going anywhere.” Harry sighed softly, just as the head pushed past Zayn’s rim and his cock began to carve into him inch by inch. 

Zayn’s chest was going up and down dramatically and his nails ran down Harry’s back as he bit back a scream. It was so much, but not too much to the point where he couldn’t take it, but he just wanted to be good for him. Harry wrenched forwards and Zayn gasped, wildly scraping at Harry’s back as he was jolted up the bed with every thrust. Somehow, everything was becoming clearer and the air was getting easier to breathe, the smell of Harry’s shampoo in his nose, the spice of his cologne holding his lungs open as his heart searched for an answer. 

“I love you,” he said it like it was true, and in that moment, it just might have been. 

For the very first time in his life, he couldn’t care less if the world was ending outside the room, if the house was to be engulfed in flames or if there were thieves crawling up the windows to steal his fortune. Nothing was ever his to begin with, but here it was, staring him down in the face. Harry, a man he truly didn’t know all that much about but for some reason…felt as though their connection had been reinforced by the universe. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don’t know, i’m afraid of americans is a loose rewrite of “There Were So Many Sunflowers,” which I cannot find within me to venture fixing right now, if ever. I’m going to try and make this fic as beautiful and sad and poignant as possible, maybe a few funny moments here and there. It will probably take a while. Please bear with me, I love you, let me know what you think.   
-j


	9. you got knocked up

**I screw every morning,**

**I bathe and drink tea. **

**I’ve been playing canasta, **

**disastrously. All my recreation **

**seems to suit me okay. These **

**are the games I play. **

-falsettos, the games i play

“Hey,” Harry poked his head out onto the balcony, smiling widely at Zayn. “Whatcha doing out here?” He headed towards where he was seated on one of the outdoor chairs. 

“Smoking a fag,” Zayn said it very matter-of-fact-ly, lifting his eyebrows when Harry came and sat right in front of him. 

“A  _ what?” _

“I’m going to blow smoke in your face,” Zayn answered unhelpfully. “To get you out of here. It’s my special time.” 

Harry pouted and scooched even closer, taking the cigarette from between Zayn’s lips and pressing his own onto them, smoke rising in the squeezed space between their faces, the close proximity making even his eyelashes tickle when Harry pulled away. “Hm, do you have to be alone during your special time?” 

Zayn licked his lips before continuing. “If you stay, you won’t like me much after.” 

Harry then reached over to gently guide Zayn’s back onto his chest, “How are you so sure?” 

“I use this time to smoke, look at the sky and wonder where all the stars could be, and think my darkest thoughts,” Zayn tilted his head back to look at Harry’s chin. “Your image of me will be ruined.” 

“You should know by now that I don’t scare easy,” Harry laughed, taking the cigarette away again. “Have you seen this dick? You’d think it’s a monster, I’ve had women run out of the hotel rooms screaming the second they see it.” 

Zayn hummed, “I can’t imagine the burden and fear you must live with, terrified that your cock will rise and lay vengeance on any poor sod you charmed a bit too well with your face.” 

“Consensually, of course. It happens quite a lot, you’d be surprised,” Harry took a drag and released it with a big sigh, leaning back into the chair and taking Zayn with him. “So tell me your deepest, darkest thoughts.”

Zayn yanked the cigarette back again, “No.” He smiled coyly, throwing the smoke onto the ground and stompin it out before Harry could steal another drag. 

“What a waste,” 

“Do you actually care?” 

Harry smirked, “About the ‘fag’ or the dark side of this moon?” He held Zayn’s face with one hand, eyes relaxed and satisfyingly inspecting it over. It could make any normal person faint, Harry’s relaxed gaze. 

“Are you a bloody poet? The dark side of this moon?” Zayn blew his own hair out of his face before snuggling into Harry’s warm chest. “If you tell me something, I’ll tell you something.” 

“Alright, like we’re kids,” Harry snickered. “Gah, fine. Um, let’s see here,” He reached over onto Zayn’s lap and his fingers made little typing motions as though he was looking something up on a computer. “Ooh, you definitely couldn’t handle this one.” 

“You’re such a dork.” 

“This one’s a bit too gory, kind of distasteful for a high-born omega, isn’t it? Man, this is hard,” Harry kept on ‘typing,’ finally stopping when Zayn grabbed his hands and kept them suspended in the air. “Hm?” 

“Did I land on something? Could you not scroll away? Tell me what it says, I’m afraid I don’t read ‘dumbass.’” Zayn turned back and rolled his eyes. 

Harry kissed him quickly, “That’s it, I’m in love with you.” He intertwined their fingers, hugging Zayn’s chest and resting his jaw on his shoulder. 

“Tell me, Harry,” Zayn whispered softly, “We made a deal.” 

“If this computer was real,” Harry started, breath tickling his ear, “You’d see on this file a picture of a boy and a man sitting underneath a tree. Can you imagine it?” 

“What kind of tree?” 

Fuck, Harry was definitely in love. 

“A Redwood, hundreds and hundreds of feet tall, its circumference probably as wide as this house,” Harry acted it out with their hands, fingers still locked together. “And I’m the boy and I’m smiling so wide because me dad’s just told me that time travel’s real, and even though it’s illegal, we buried a time capsule right under where we’re sitting,” Harry scoffed, “The biggest load of horseshit you could’ve ever heard. I believed it more than Santa or the tooth fairy. A bit evil, you could say.” 

Zayn giggled, “Like Doctor Who?” 

“No,” Harry immediately replied, “Like, stories of wind carrying people into different times, and my ancestors changing the future by doing things in the past. It messed me up as a kid.” 

“What?” Zayn let go his hands and turned back. “How?” 

Harry sighed and pulled him back, “It’s a long story. It’s your turn.” He sniffed once and Zayn could automatically tell that he was upset by the way he started to kiss at his neck. 

“Sometimes I want to fling myself off the stairs.” 

“What the fuck,” Harry keeled forwards, holding onto Zayn’s chest. “What the fuck?” He repeated, craning his head to try and look at Zayn’s face, see if he was being serious or not. 

“Not because I want to die or anything, just because I sometimes wonder if it’s like being on a rollercoaster.” 

“You’re right, yours was definitely worse,” Harry stuffed his nose into Zayn’s omega spot. “Shit. Now I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“Mmngh,” Zayn whined, trapped in Harry’s grip. “Stop pressing on it,” He whimpered, kicking his legs a bit until his body relaxed. “Gosh, you protective piece of shit.” 

“Let’s snuggle on the bed,” Harry murmured, pressing kisses onto Zayn’s sensitive skin. “Finger you to sleep.” 

“You are so gross,” Zayn whined, squirming. He squawked when one of Harry’s hands snuck down his pants. “The fuck do you think you’re doing? Niall and Charlie are right next to us!” He smacked at Harry’s arm. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry apologized lazily, lips still on Zayn’s neck. “Can I still finger you?” 

Zayn groaned and hit his head backwards onto Harry’s chest, red in the face. He initially shook his head, making Harry lift his hands up in defeat and shrug, but it was only about four seconds later when he pulled Harry’s hands back down and looked at him expectantly, Harry’s eyes widening. “Hm?” 

“Get to it, but if you make me scream, I’ll push you off this ledge.” Zayn threatened, shyly burying his head in the crook of his arm. 

Harry laughed out loud, earning him a hard slap on the thigh and a cute glare. “Alright, alright. I’ll take care of you, baby.” 

“Your hands are cold,” Zayn complained, feeling very naughty about himself. “Fuck, how did we go from dark thoughts to you making me ride your fucking fingers on the balcony?” 

“They’ll warm up,” Harry sighed in bliss, sliding his hand down in between Zayn’s legs and into his pants. “Fuck, you’re so soft.” 

“Shut up,” Zayn squeezed his eyes shut. “Seriously, just shut it.” 

“You’re soft everywhere,” Harry moans, running his other hand up Zayn’s forearm. “It’s like you don’t even grow hair, it’s unreal. Shit, and your hole’s getting all wet, isn’t it, baby? And you smell so good,” He chooses then to bite Zayn’s earlobe and tease at his rim. “This body is perfect, have I ever told you that?” 

“Yeah, when you like, knotted me that one time and you started crying,” Zayn bit back, smiling at him. “Big strong alpha crying while you were trying to shove me into the mattress.” 

“God,” Harry panted, easing one finger into Zayn all the way up to the second knuckle. “You’re so tight, shit.” 

Zayn’s eyelashes fluttered and he immediately reached for Harry’s wandering hand and held it with both of his fists. “Shit, shit, shit,” 

“No,” Harry growled, his teeth sinking into the lax part of Zayn’s shoulder, “Stop cursing,” He quickly added another finger, beginning to pump them as he held his teeth down. 

Zayn let out soft cries, shaking under Harry’s grip and his eyes began to roll back into his head. “Hazza,” He began to panic when Harry’s fingers got dangerously close to his prostate, “Hazza, please.” 

“You don’t get to boss me around.” Harry let go of Zayn’s shoulder and grinned when he found it, pulling a broken moan from his lips. 

“Why not?” Zayn breathed out, lips red from biting them. “Are you seriously one of those pricks who expect their omegas to just be submissive bitches that don’t curse and just wait for their alphas to come home and sex them up?” 

Harry growled again, this time pulling Zayn’s hair to the side as he added a third finger, rubbing all inside of his walls and thumb making circular motions on his perineum. “Are you trying to make me angry?” His alpha voice was of an unreal timbre, deep as a bass and nearly guttural. 

Zayn shivered at the sound of it, baring his neck wide open for Harry to mark. “No,” He said in a small voice, absolutely weak. “Wait, Hazza,” 

“Yes?” Harry detached himself from Zayn’s neck to look at him. “What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing,” Zayn giggled. “Absolutely nothing at all,” He leaned back and held the back of Harry’s head to pull him in, sighing happily into his lips. “Well, I think I’m in love with you, that’s pretty shitty,” Harry chose that moment to shove his hand up, making Zayn keel over and yowl. “Fuck, sorry, sorry,” 

“We’re taking this inside,” Harry was breathless as he removed his fingers and brought them up to Zayn’s mouth, looking like he was going to go insane when Zayn’s lips closed around them, closing his eyes and sucking softly. “Yeah, taking you in right the fuck now.” 

Zayn whimpered softly when he was lifted up into Harry’s arms, feeling helpless and exposed. “Harry,” His vision was becoming blurry, holding onto his neck was taking too much energy. 

“You up for it tonight, baby?” Harry asked calmly once he settled Zayn onto the bed, laying seductively on his side and looking up at him through thick eyelashes. When Zayn nodded, all Harry could do was push his hair back with his hand and crawl on top of him, nuzzling their noses together and moving his lips softly. 

“How d’you want me?” Zayn asked slowly, humming softly with the kisses being pressed behind his ear. 

Harry murmured, “Turn around for me, babe, hm? On your front,” 

“Still can’t get over that voice,” Zayn complied, laying flat on his tummy and resting his face on his cheek. “Like an American Henry Cavill.” 

Harry nudged Zayn’s legs apart, totally stripping both of them out of their clothes before settling in between them. “Back in the day, alphas would just choose their omegas and they’d get mated in front of their whole packs.”

“Yeah,” Zayn laughed, because just the idea of it was so ridiculous. “I read about it a lot of books.” 

“Mhm,” Harry groaned when Zayn’s slick made his inner thighs all wet and sticky, “The omegas were usually virgins, never knotted before, prehistoric shit like that. Their first time would literally be this whole cultish mating ceremony in front of everyone they’d ever known.” 

Zayn gasped when Harry draped himself on his back, breathing down his neck. “Like this?” 

Harry nodded, kissing his omega spot repeatedly. “Hold onto this part to keep them relaxed, because it was fucking terrifying and barbaric. They really tapped into that whole primal animal thing.” Harry began to grind his hardening cock in between Zayn’s cheeks, intertwining their hands and holding them close. 

Zayn moaned, slightly muffled by the position, but was still able to squeeze Harry’s hand and move his legs around. “Getting pregnant wasn’t easy back then,” He heard Harry’s breath hitch, “God, little pups just running around with their fat baby cheeks and baby shampoo smell,” 

Harry made an indiscernible sound, finally holding the base of his cock and teasing Zayn’s rim with the head. “You’re on suppies?” 

“Of course I am,” Zayn scoffed, “I’m not a virginal omega tasked with producing a surviving heir, Haz.”

“Mm,” Harry kissed his shoulder. “Can I go uncovered, then?” 

“Please,” Zayn begged, voice breaking when Harry finally, finally pushed in, lifting his head to silently scream and stretch. “Oh, fuck.” 

“You okay?” Harry asked gently, placing a hand on the small of Zayn’s back. “Does it hurt?” 

“No,” Zayn reached back for Harry’s hand. “Mm, Haz,” 

“Yeah, sweetheart. I have you,” Harry cooed, holding hands again as he buried himself deep into Zayn, chest pressing against back once more. “How’d we go from feeling you up on the balcony to talking about mating in the 17th century?” 

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Zayn bit the pillow. “Fuck me.” 

“You’re so fucking warm,” Harry grunted and thrusted a bit forwards, “Squeezing me like that, naughty.” 

Zayn just spread his legs a little more in response, sighing into it when Harry found a comfortable rhythm. This position made everything so much deeper and more intimate, it was almost as intense as a heat or a rut. “Haz, just wanna cum.”

“I know, babe,” Harry gasped as his thrust began to rut Zayn’s hips forwards and backwards as well, and if his screams said anything about it, it must’ve felt really fucking good. “Shit, little Zayns running around.” 

“Fuck,” Zayn wailed, releasing Harry’s hands to grip the pillow instead and just hold on for dear life. “Never leave again, okay?” 

“You wouldn’t let me anyways,” Harry nibbled at his neck, forcing his body to relax and feel everything in a heightened way, “Can I knot you?” 

“Mhm,” Zayn nodded, tears clumping his eyelashes together. “It’s been a while, though.” 

“If it gets to be too much, let me know and I’ll try to yank my dick out,” Harry said genuinely, making Zayn sputter a laugh for a moment before his eyes rolled into the back of his head. “What’s so funny, hm?” 

“It’s just,” Zayn closed his eyes as Harry lips found the crook of his neck again. “I’ve never met anyone who talks the way you do.” 

Harry was still pushing in and out, hips slapping against Zayn’s skin as he held his omega close to him. “Shit, baby.” 

Zayn whimpered in agreement, clenching down hard on his teeth when he felt Harry’s cock start to stretch inside of him, moving harshly in and out as it grew larger and more unforgiving. “Haz,” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Harry turned his face so that they could kiss, slowly grinding into Zayn before finally shoving as deep as he could go, spilling and groaning as he collapsed on top of him. “You okay, baby?” 

“Yeah,” Was all Zayn could say, shaking as he clenched helplessly around his alpha. “I think I came.” 

“Aw,” Harry cooed, flipping them onto their side as he released another wave of cum into him, moaning together at the warmth and tightness. “Gonna get you all full, baby.” 

“Fuck,” Zayn gasped, clenching his toes. “I love you.” 

There was the briefest of pauses before Harry echoed after him, “I love you too.” 

“Jesus, I could really use a fag right now.” Zayn sighed, cuddling into Harry’s arms as he tried to relax around the giant thing tying them together. 

“You do know what ‘fag’ means in America, right?” 

“Cigs? Smokes?” 

Harry snorted and kissed his neck. “Nevermind. One day, if you’re still in love with me the way you are right now, which I highly doubt because I’m just so boring—“ Zayn burst out laughing, throwing his head back onto Harry’s face and showing off his brilliantly white teeth. “I’m going to bite right here,” His fingers lightly grazed over the scent gland on his neck, dancing and sparking jolts of electricity through his body. “‘Cause it feels right.” 

“Okay,” Zayn yawned, making a sound when he realized that his stomach was starting to bulge. “Wake me up when you’re carrying me to the shower.” 

“Alright.” 

* * *

Harry woke up to the sound of pitter-pattering in the hallway and instinctively pulled Zayn closer to his chest, sleepily blinking himself into protective mode. Zayn’s eyelashes were so long they rested on his cheek, his hair was so soft that it just delicately relaxed itself wherever it fell, and his skin was so goddamn warm Harry just wanted to wear him as a blanket for the rest of eternity. 

“Hmm?” Zayn asked, still asleep, but nuzzling Harry’s neck with his cheek. 

“Hmm,” Harry answered, his ‘hmm’ going down phonetically. Their feet tangled together and then they were back to bliss, the duvet nestling their bodies. 

Harry was nearly about to relax when the pitter-pattering started up again, this time closer to the bedroom door. His eyes snapped open as he growled at it, one leg resting on top of Zayn’s as his senses went into overdrive. 

The footsteps stopped, and then he heard a sniffle and three quiet knocks landed on the door. “Bhaiya?” 

“Oh,” Harry sighed, kissing Zayn’s head in relief. “Sheesh, nearly killed your sister.” 

“Mm,” Zayn incoherently hummed, whining in protest when Harry pulled away to open the door. 

“What’s up, little miss?” Harry asked gruffly, clearing his throat in an attempt to not look like a total demon looming over the defenseless little girl. 

Safaa’s small head slowly rose upwards to Harry’s face, which was dark because the moonlight was facing his back, then proceeded to whimper and cry. 

“Oh, wait,” Harry kneeled on one knee with his hands up, frightened by the crying little girl in front of him. “Safaa, darling?” He gently put his hands on her arms, shushing and gently coaxing her into his arms. “What’s wrong?” 

Safaa rested her head on his shoulder and he stood up, holding her gently as he brought her back to the bed. 

“Saf?” Zayn asked, reaching his arms out. “Bad dreams?” She shook her head and clung to Harry’s neck. “Oh, c’mon, Saf, you gotta sleep.” 

Harry stood back up and instinctively began to pat her back, hoisting her legs around his middle and hugging her, “Hey, it’s okay.” He yawned out, nuzzling her with his cheek. He then rocked her back and forth, lulling her and letting her scent him. 

After a while of that, Safaa finally began to rest, her voice dying down as her eyes fluttered shut. “Alright,” Harry whispered, tucking her into Zayn’s embrace and gently getting under the covers as well. 

“You’re good with her,” Zayn observed, petting her hair. “She gets such bad night terrors sometimes she doesn’t want to go back to sleep. Usually takes me an hour and lots of hot chocolate.” 

Harry silently placed a hand on her back. “I get it, I used to be demented in the head too.” 

“Jeez,” Zayn laughed, reaching over her to kiss Harry’s cheek. “It’s ‘cause she’s traumatized, okay?” 

Harry’s face fell, “Oh. Sorry.” 

“No no, you’re fine,” Zayn smiled when she wriggled slightly. “It’s just our family. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” 

“Shut,” Harry shook his head and sighed. “Stop deciding whether or not your life is a burden for me. It’s my decision and my decision only, and I’ve decided that I like your family a lot.” He protectively reached his whole arm out to extend over Zayn as well, guarding both of them. 

Zayn stared at him for a few seconds before smiling to himself and closing his eyes, enjoying the feeling of absolute safety in someone else’s arms. 

By the time he woke up, Harry was already awake, gently bouncing Safaa in his arms side to side, cooing a soft lullaby in her ear. They locked eyes, then Harry blushed and Zayn fell into a world where nothing could ever go wrong. 

“She loves you,” Zayn gulped out, mouth dry from sleep. “That’s…I’ve never seen that before. She’s such a little shit even to me.” 

Harry shrugged, looking a little panicked that Zayn witnessed him singing to a little girl, but continued to comfort her as she woke up, exhausted from fighting the monsters in her nightmares. “Good morning, Safaa.” 

“Harry,” She acknowledged, holding onto his neck and continued to bury her nose in his neck. 

“What’s your guys’ favorite breakfast?” Harry asked the both of them, to which he got a confused cock of the head as a response. “Wait, you don’t eat breakfast?” 

“We have breakfast,” Zayn slowly sat up, still staring at the magnificent sight before him. “Just around 11:30 or so.” 

“The hell?” Harry made a face at Safaa, who giggled. “That’s like, brunch where I’m from.” 

“Brunch?” 

“Jesus, did I get warped into the early 19th century or something? What, do you drink milk tea with sugary cookies and little sandwiches with the crusts cut off? Or even worse, a 5000 calorie English Breakfast every day?” Harry set her down so that she could run off to change. 

Zayn laughed, “No, silly. The sandwiches are for  _ afternoon _ tea. We just eat things like poached cod and eggs and toast with stuff.” 

“Gross,” Harry scrunched his nose up. “Borderline barbaric. C’mon, let me show you what a real breakfast is, you elitist time bubble.” He stretched his hand out, raising his eyebrows when Zayn’s eyes widened. 

“Don’t Americans eat like, a million pop tarts with fags and coffee and donuts?” Zayn asked, sliding out of bed and into his fuzzy panda slippers. 

“In Los Angeles—you have a juicer, right?” Harry asked, and Zayn gave him a horrified look. “I’m guessing you don’t. That’s okay. A blender?” 

Zayn nodded, testing out the grip he had on Harry’s hand. “Sorry, too tight?” 

“No,” Zayn answered quickly, sticking to Harry’s side. “What about Los Angeles?” 

“Well, it involves kale, olive oil, steak—“ 

“Steak? In the morning?” 

Harry laughed in his throat, putting on Zayn’s coat for him and setting their shoes in front of them. “Yeah, it’s a little weird, I gotta admit. Have you ever had breakfast pasta?” 

Zayn’s eyes bugged out of his head as they stepped out of the house, “ _ Breakfast _ pasta? What the hell is that?” 

“It’s french bacon, eggs, cheese, and spaghetti,” Harry unlocked his car and flashed Zayn a smile. “One day, I’ll take you to go eat the real thing, okay?”

“Yeah,” Zayn walked in front of the shotgun seat, exhaling happily when the door of Harry’s sports car opened vertically. “Oh my god, this is insane.”

Harry gave him a ‘you gotta be kidding me’ look. “Sorry, your net worth was…?” 

“Hey, I’m not even allowed outside most of the time, for my own safety. Especially since this whole Charlie’s abusive boyfriend back in town to exact his revenge…” He got in when Harry did and immediately started freaking out at the interior. 

“Charlie’s abuser is a lowly piece of shit. You know what we do to to lowley pieces of shit in L.A?” Harry flashed him a magical smirk before revving the engine. 

“I certainly hope you don’t run them over.” Zayn giggled excitedly when they pulled out of the mansion’s roundabout and sped down the street. 

“Nah, we just feed them Carl’s Jr. until they explode from self-pity.” 

“Was that a euphemism for facefucking?” 

* * *

“Goodness me,” Trisha smiled pleasantly as she walked into the kitchen, raising her eyebrows at a smiling Safaa drinking what looked like a green smoothie. “What’s in that, sweetheart?” 

“Spee-roo-lee-na.” Safaa held the glass to her mother’s face, who kindly shook her head and refused it. 

“Yup, sounds healthy,” Trisha handed it back to her. “What’re you two doing?” 

“Harry’s making steak and eggs.” Zayn brightly smiled, his face literally glowing. 

Trisha poured herself some coffee before ruffling Safaa’s hair and backing away slowly, “Oh, okay. Have fun, seems like you guys have it covered. Your father and I are uh, going out for a bit. If anything happens, such as with Charlie or anything at all, just call, alright? You’re in charge of your sister.” 

“Wait, mum—“

“Bye!” 

“Does she do that a lot?” Harry asked, the steak sizzling as he turns it, “Hey, we should set up plates.” 

“Why is this spinach oily?” 

“It’s massaged kale, salmonberry.” 

“What is a salmonberry?” Safaa finished her glass of green sludge. 

“It’s a…” Harry pondered for a moment. “...berry.” 

“Alright, little shit, as  _ I _ prefer to call you, go wake up Charlie and sit at the table,” Zayn nodded her off, leaving just him and Harry in the kitchen. “She said I smelled like you.” 

“Good. I’d be crying if you didn’t, to be honest,” Harry began to slice the meat, flipping his tousled hair out of his face. “You’ve been looking at me like that for the last few days now. What are you planning, hm?” 

“Nothing,” Zayn shook his head and smiled softly. “I’m just feeling happy.” 

“Oh,” Harry handed him a plate. “Why?” 

“Because you came back, stupid,” Zayn walked over to the dining room, in all his fluffy panda slippers and robe glory. “Come on now, Angeleno.” 

“Holy shit,” Charlie cursed, holding his fork and knife with delicate whimsy. “This is incredible.” 

Safaa was stuffing her face with kale and chewing dramatically for a very long time. “This is good. Can you live here?” 

Zayn visibly choked on his coffee just as Harry choked on his green smoothie, making Charlie cackle in glee. “You two are so adorable.” 

“So,” Zayn gulped and looked away from his sister, “Is Niall still mad at you?” 

“He’s not mad,” Charlie fell into it immediately, “Just…needs time, he says. But yeah, still not talking to me. It’s okay.” 

It definitely was not okay. Harry gave Zayn a look, then moved to take Safaa up. “Alright, salmon, we should go and get you ready for your tutor.” He held out his hand and together they disappeared. 

Charlie kept eating, but now was extremely solemn and in deep thought. Zayn looked around the room as though anyone was there to help him, then closed his eyes in defeat, “Listen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” 

“No, I’m sorry,” Charlie looked up and smiled sadly, “I’ve overstayed my welcome, haven’t I?” 

Zayn’s eyes fluttered in disbelief, “No, no, of course not! I’m just looking out for you, is all. He comes over almost every day like he’s scared you’ve disappeared, but then just leaves once he sees you.”

“Yeah, all I do is worry him,” Charlie picked at his food, “Christ, I really can’t stop with the self-pity, can I? Ah, well, shit,” He stood up and took their nearly empty plates, “I’ll do the dishes and clean up, yeah? I’m going to try and finish some chores, then I’m off to work.” 

Zayn’s eyes followed him, “Work? What do you mean you’re going to work? No, Char, it’s too fucking dangerous out there, are you listening? Char? Char!” 

* * *

“Bold of you to show your face after a whole month,” Anna blew her cig smoke in his face as she nonchalantly flipped her budget book. “No word either. Thought you were dead.” 

“I might as well be,” Charlie sighed, handing her a couple hundred pounds in cash. “Here, to make up for the share you’d get if I was here.” 

Anna looked at it, then her stony gaze broke, “Shit, Char. Where the fuck have you been?” 

“Running from Noah, and ironically sneaking out of my hideaway to come here; make sure my caretaker doesn’t get sick of me.”

“What?” Anna scrunched up her face. “And why the fuck didn’t you call me?” 

“I didn’t want to get you involved into my shit again, alright?” 

“What about your rich boyfriend, where’s he?” 

Charlie began to walk away, “He’s not my boyfriend anymore, alright?” 

Anna rolled her eyes and tapped her ashes in his direction. “You’re a bloody idiot.” 

“I know.” 

“Char.” Anna stopped him again. “Go home. And take your money, I don’t want it nor do I need it. I’d rather you be safe and useless than dead or worse.” 

Charlie turned around in exasperation, “And I’d rather be useful or dead before I ever become a fucking martyr of pity. Don’t, Annie, okay? I’m fine. I’ve always taken care of myself, that won’t change now.” 

“No. Get out. You’re fired.” 

“ _ What? _ ” Charlie was about to start crying. “Why?” 

Anna shrugged. “You’re just fired. Go home before it gets too dark.” 

“Uh—“ Charlie couldn’t even say anything, just closed his eyes and began walking towards the exit in defeat, ignoring the way Anna tried to hand him back his bag of money. “Fuck!” 

He got halfway out into the middle of the street whilst holding a lighter, but didn’t even get to light his cigarette by the time he made it to the other sidewalk. Niall’s car was parked on the curb in front of the club. A couple seconds later, the owner was coming out of it, eyes directly honed in on Charlie. 

“Char? What are you doing here?” Niall’s tone was demanding, but at this point he could give less of a shit. 

“What are  _ you _ doing here, huh?” Charlie yelled and threw his stuff onto the ground. “That’s the real question.” 

“I’m taking you back to Zayn’s,” Niall gritted his teeth and pointed to the car, but Charlie just rolled his eyes and began to walk in the other direction. “Char!” 

“No,” Charlie said without turning around. “Thanks, but I don’t need your help.” 

“Charlie,” Niall locked his car before running after him, “Wait.” 

Charlie quickly wiped his tears away by the time Niall caught up, weak and shaking. “This is all so fucked up, you know that?” He turned around to face Niall accusingly. “I lost my job, my boyfriend,  _ and _ the love of my life. The last two aren’t one and the same, you know? I don’t have an apartment, I don’t have any family, I’m just a fucking waste of space that ruined your life just by stepping into it for what feels like three fucking seconds.” 

“That’s not true,” Niall hands were shaking. “Stop.” 

“Leave me alone, Ni,” Charlie begged. “Stop coming over. Stop paying off my dues to Anna, which is, I’m assuming, why you keep coming here. Go and have a fucking life!” He screamed, stepping three steps back for every step Niall took forwards. “I’m done. It’s over. Noah’s never going to stop—“

“We’ll stop him.” 

“No, Ni,” Charlie dropped his arms and his body swayed with dizziness. “I am a blip. Go away.”

Niall made a choking noise, eyes tearing up. “A blip? That’s what you’re calling yourself now?” 

“A smudge,” Charlie nodded. “A...dust bunny. A mistake. I’m fucking off now, and you should do the same, Ni. Go be with someone who actually matters, who’s actually worth all the trouble.” 

“Who are you to decide whether or not you’re worth my time?” Niall asked, heart breaking each unsteady step Charlie took away from him. “Char, please stop. Let me take you home.” 

“I’d rather die than be your fucking burden, Niall Horan,” He lit another cigarette, taking in a shuddering puff and releasing it back into the night sky. 

“Charlie!” Niall yelled, but Charlie didn’t stop, just kept on walking deeper and deeper into the night. At one point, he stopped calling for him, and upon turning around he realized that Niall had driven away. 

Good. He took another drag before silently cursing, because the air was starting to smell like rain and he had left his coat in the club.

With heavy steps, he walked. If you had asked him where, he would’ve told you to fuck off and that he didn’t know. 

“Noah? Yeah, it’s me. I know, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, baby and I promise I’ll never—yeah? Oh, okay. Yeah, I’m at—“

“Fuck no,” Niall snatched the phone out of his hand and threw it onto the ground, stomping on it with his bespoke Louis Vuitton dress shoe in a fit of fury. “Fuck that. Stop.” 

Charlie stood there, petrified, not able to say a word. 

“Stop fucking giving up,” Niall hissed at him, pushing his hair back with one hand and clenching his other into a fist. “Can you fucking try to do that? Please?” 

Charlie’s face broke, several tears running down his face, “I’m so—“ 

“Stop fucking apologizing.” Niall shook his head, at a loss for and other words. “I just—I don’t understand you, Char. I really, really don’t. I don’t get why you’re pushing everything away—“ 

“He’s all I’ve got,” Charlie whispered softly and shrugged. “You don’t understand, Ni. You can’t. You’re not from here, you don’t know that this is how it always works.” 

Niall tentatively came forward and brushed the tears off his face, “I’m not some side character, okay? I don’t mean to patronize you or make you feel like a burden, I just love you,” He exhaled shakily and looked away. “So fucking much and it would fucking break me, Char, absolutely fucking destroy me if the next time I see you is when you’re dead.” 

Charlie still couldn’t move, just softly cried with his head down. “You love me?” 

“I do, goddammit. It took me too long to realize that loving and understanding are two different things,” Niall muttered, finally yanking him to his chest. “Fuck, is Zayn even feeding you?” 

“I think you’ve cursed more in the last thirty seconds than you have since the day we met,” Charlie sobbed, slamming his head repeatedly onto Niall’s chest. “I’m sorry.” 

“Let’s go home, baby,” Niall kissed his head, arms tightening around him. 

“No, Zayn’s gonna lecture me for years—“ 

“Not Zayn’s house,” Niall said it like he’s dumb, “Home, like, our home.” 

Charlie smiled softly, straightening Niall’s collar. “Ni, it’s not ‘our’ home anymore, okay? We’re,” He swallowed, “We’re over, yeah?”

“No,” Niall kissed him softly, rubbing at his back. “If I let you sleep alone you start shaking.” 

“That why you’ve been staying over so much?” Charlie let him lead him to the car, but only after he stomped on the phone one more time for good measure. “Dramatic.” 

“If you walked in one day to the love of your life with bruises and cuts all over them you’d snap the shit out of any stupid flip phone too,” Niall told him coarsely, practically carrying and dropping him into the car. “Home?”

Charlie laid back into the leather seats and sighed, “Okay. This is temporary, though.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Niall ran around to the driver’s side, settling in and motioning for Charlie to buckle his seatbelt, then sticking his tongue out at the eye roll he received. “Just until I propose and get a proper house and offer my dowry to your parents, or, I guess Anna in this case.”

“What?” 

* * *

“I know that you’re like, stressed out about Charlie having disappeared without your permission and stuff but like, I need to be a little narcissistic right now to tell you something.” Louis set his cup of tea down and looked Zayn straight in the eye. “I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh,” Zayn said without missing a beat, still scribbling into his notebook like mad. “That’s great, Lou. It’s Liam’s, right?” 

Louis deadpanned, “No. It’s Tom Hiddleston’s. Yes it’s Liam’s! And we’re getting mated once the baby’s born, but I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be the godfather.” 

That got Zayn to put his pen down, “Me? Really?” 

“Yes, stupid,” Louis looked at his notebook. “Are you writing? I haven’t seen you write in like, so long, not since the second rehab.” 

“Wow, I’m so happy to know that you measure our time together based off all the times I’ve gone and left rehab,” Zayn rolled his eyes, pulling Louis in for a hug. “I would love to be your child’s godfather. I would die for it.” 

“No no no, because sooner or later you’re going to have pups too,” Louis held his hands and looked him straight in the eye. “Harry is a great guy, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn smiled dreamily. “He is.” 

“You’re absolutely smitten with him.” 

“Smitten? Nah, that’s being a tad dramatic, don’t you think?” Zayn clicked his tongue, closing his notebook and kissing Louis’ cheek because it just felt right to. 

“Well, considering you’re writing about a little boy named Henry who goes on a mythical adventure with a time traveling dragon, I’d say you’re pretty fucking obsessed.” 

“...Shut up.”

“What is that, like some weird Doctor Who-Merlin-After knockoff?” 

“Shut! Up!” Zayn pouted at him, “I’m just trying to find a new hobby, you ass.” 

Louis smiled softly and pulled him close. “Come here, baby. I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” Zayn yawned, “Sorry, ‘m getting sleepy.” 

“Hi,” Harry’s head poked through the door, “I heard Zayn yawn.” 

“Psychotic,” Louis said nonchalantly, speaking through his smile. “You two are absolutely psychotic. It’s kind of sweet, actually.” 

It took him a minute to realize that they weren’t even listening to him, Harry softly petting Zayn’s hair and cheek with his hands as the latter closed his eyes happily and leaned into his chest, holding onto his arm. 

“Aw,” Louis turned around and saw Liam smiling at him. “They’re really cute.” 

“I’m just glad he’s writing and not getting high off of illegal doses of opioid cough syrup,” Louis sighed, getting up to go towards him. “Man, do you think that’s what we look like to other people?” 

Liam hummed, “Well, I know for sure that I look ten times more desperate and heartstruck than Harry does every time I look at you.” 

Louis shoved his arm playfully as they walked out of the room, “You absolute sap. I hate you.” 

“I love you,” Liam sing-songed, wrapping his arms around him. “Come on, I’ll make you some lunch.” 

* * *

Zayn was desperate and ready to risk it all now. “Hey, Harry?” He asked, sitting at their usual table in the library. Harry was sitting across from him, hunched over his laptop as he sped his overdue and makeup essays, from being gone so long, of course. He raised his eyebrows without looking at him to let him know he was listening. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Mhm,” 

“What do you think about love, and stuff? Zayn added at the end, fingers trembling around the piece of paper he was folding over and over again until it couldn’t be folded anymore. Now he was just pressing on it with his thumbs and making his skin go white. “Do you...believe in it? Like, really believe in it? Like, do you think the world is small enough for people to actually fall for someone or is it just too wide and full of inconclusive variables?” 

Harry laughed breathily, “What a loaded question, darling.” 

“Sorry.”

“No no,” Harry shook his head, finally looking up. “Tolstoy, done.” He referred to his essay. 

Zayn smiled and clapped, “Good job! Now answer my—please, please answer my question.” 

“I think I do believe in love,” Harry got started on the next assignment immediately. “But I think you can fuck up love way easier than falling in it, you know? You have to reach a certain level of vulnerability that you can never take back, but you can so easily insult and hurt the person you love without even breathing.” 

Zayn nodded, “I guess that’s true.” 

“Why do you ask? I feel like you’re beating around the bush on something.” Harry sing-songed, fast fingers flying. 

Zayn stammered, “I kind of am. I was wondering if,” He paused to gulp, “If you’d want to love me.” 

“I do love you,” 

“I mean like, love love me.” Zayn’s piece of paper was becoming mush from his sweat. Yuck. 

Harry audibly and visibly stopped, looking up at Zayn with wide eyes. “Did I hear you right?” 

Zayn was desperate and was regretting risking it all. “Uh, nope?” 

“Stop that,” Harry sounded cross for a second, but went back to his calm and articulate nature, “I do love love you, Zayn Malik. I thought it was pretty obvious on my end.” 

“Mm,” Zayn exhaled shakily. “It was?” 

Harry shrugged, “Like I said, it’s hard being vulnerable with someone. You haven’t been very vulnerable with me.” 

“Well, you haven’t either,” Zayn pointed out. “I don’t know whether or not you’ve got another omega or beta back home. I don’t know, because I feel like I don’t even know you sometimes.” 

Harry closed his laptop and walked over to Zayn’s side of the table, sitting down with a sigh and wrapping one arm around him. “You’re right, but not about that last part. I love you.” 

“I’m sorry I’ve taken an awful long time to say it,” Zayn said clearly and concisely. “I suffer from PTSD because of a traumatic event that occurred when I was really young. I don’t like windows and I don’t like guns and I don’t like people. I don’t really have any vices other than that.” 

Harry kissed his head and brought him closer. “I don’t like people either. I stopped talking to my dad when I was seventeen and he died before we ever had a chance to work things out. My mom was never around, my sister doesn’t have any passions she’d want to pursue, and sometimes I feel as though I am just at a standstill,” He kissed Zayn again because he needed a recharge, “Like I’m playing a very long game I know I won’t win.”

“You make me feel very safe,” Zayn told him honestly. “It’s to the point where I feel like I’ll start shaking without you around and...I love you.”

“I love you too.” Harry nuzzled their noses together and it all felt incredibly right, perhaps a bit too right, but Zayn couldn’t care about any inconclusive variables at the moment. Harry was smiling at him, and that’s all a person really needs. 

“Will you play into my parents’ whims?” Zayn asked a bit vaguely, “Meaning, will you stay with me?” 

“Be mates?” Harry suggested for him, getting a little huffy about the whole badgering thing Zayn was doing. 

Zayn’s breath just about stopped when Harry said it out loud, and there was no way that this was happening. “I never thought anyone would ever love me like this.” 

“You’re a dummy for thinking that way.” Harry smiled, softly brushing the spot on his neck with his thumb, holding him ever so close, ever so fondly, as though they could live the future sitting just like that. 

“I’ll take care of you. That’s what alphas usually promise, right? When they’re asking their potential match?”

“Am I supposed to say, ‘And I’ll obey you,’ back?” Zayn rolled his eyes. “I will take care of you too, Harry. Even if I can’t understand your stupid accent sometimes.” 

“Hey,” Harry joked, “You chose this. You chose a degenerate American to sully your pure English bloodline.” 

Zayn’s cheeks flamed and it was so fucking cute, “You can only sully a bloodline if you procreate. Like, pups, or something stu-hoo-pid.”

“You’re too cute,” Harry’s heart fluttered when Zayn inadvertently batted his lashes at him, all innocent and small and  _ perfect _ . “Too fucking cute.” 

“Shut up,” Zayn playfully pushed his chest with his face, sighing and pulling back when he was hit with a full wave of his scent. “You’re making me bad at stuff.” 

Harry scoffed, “ _ I’m _ making you? You’re the one getting all distracted,” 

Zayn pouted, “Which is your fault.  _ You _ keep distracting me with your face and your body and the fucking cologne you wear,” His facial expression relaxed when Harry swooped down for a kiss. “I’m going to get us some drinks.”

“If you run into Sean,” 

“I know, I kick him in ze balls.” 

Harry laughed, re-opening his laptop as he watched Zayn go, making the latter smile to himself as everyone in the building watched in fascination of what was literally the most unfair pairing in the entire world. 

“Why do trust-fund babies even come to school? Don’t they just sit in their fucking palaces and get knocked up by other trust-fund babies?” A horrid arsehole decided to stage-whisper, acting like they didn’t want Zayn to hear as he passed by. 

“Honestly, that dame’s probably gonna leave early, his parents will buy the uni a building or two to buy his diploma so he can hang it up on the wall for his just-as-stupid pups to see.” 

Wow, they were really going at it today. Zayn headed towards the cafe, leisurely strolling while using his borrowed book to hide behind. In the distance, he saw Sean heading towards him with a smirk on his face, which only made him roll his eyes and walk faster. 

But alphas always seem to catch up. “Hi, princess.”

“You do realize that I am legally allowed to kick you in the dick?” Zayn deflected, walking right into the cafe and groaning when Sean followed. 

“I heard a rumor that you and Styles are getting mated,” 

“What the fuck? From who?” Shit, he wasn’t supposed to engage. 

“Word travels fast when you have lots of betas watching over for you,” Sean condescendingly put his hand up in front of Zayn right when he was about to pay, paying for both Zayn and Harry’s drinks as if he was doing him a favor. “I got this, princess.” 

Zayn shoved his wallet back into his back pocket, “Mine could’ve used a little lightening.” 

“And you wonder why they talk shit about our people,” Sean drawled, beckoning Zayn over to one of the tables. “All those jokes about money and looks and inbreeding.” 

Zayn shrugged, “Harry and I would be the first elite couple in a long time to not be less than twelvth cousins. It’s a revelation, honestly. I hope none of you and Sasha’s kids end up fucked up in the face or head.” 

Sean scrunched his nose up, “She’s my aunt’s daughter, that’s fucking putrid, mate.” 

“Well,” Zayn tapped his fingers on the table, “I’m very glad you think so.” 

Sean rolled his eyes, “You know, people don’t like it when an omega mouths off to an alpha. You should be thankful I’m even entertaining your bullshit this early in the morning, Malik.” 

“Oh, the irony. As though I was the one who sexually harassed you for the last five years and followed you into this cafe just now. Go fuck a donkey or whatever you alphas do in your free time,” Zayn smiled when his name was called. “God knows that your parents will be buying the school a building too...when you commit a scandalous crime needing of a cover-up. Try not to knock anyone up before reaching the age of thirty. Also, take some anger management classes. Also also, you have a small prick.” 

“Whatever.” 

Zayn triumphantly took his drinks and began to head back to the workspace of the library, sticking his tongue out at the ugly betas that tried to test him earlier. He practically skipped over to Harry, who frowned and said he smelled bad, but his small victories was worth reeking of twat. 

“Sit here. Gotta rub myself all over you.” 

“M’kay, love. But you know, everyone knows I’m yours.” Zayn hopped onto Harry lap in a sideways position, snuggling into his sweater and sighing contentedly. Harry continued to type with his arms encasing him, his breathing as steady and calm as can be. 

“Hm, ‘love.’ I think I like that.” Harry’s humming was putting Zayn to sleep. 

And Zayn just repeated, “M’kay, love,” before closing his eyes. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment  
-j <3000


	10. i’m sorry, what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one’s short but...you’ll see why.

“Why do omegas get harassed so much here?” Harry asked as Zayn lovingly buttered his toast for him. “Thanks, baby.” 

Zayn shrugged, “It’s just life, love. Why do you think Louis hardly goes out by himself? Birds like Charlie are kind of the anomaly.” 

“What does ‘bird’ even mean?” Harry scrunched up his nose, protectively pulling Zayn’s chair closer to his. Lately, he’s been very rough about his engagement with Zayn, possessive and ten times more anxious about danger befalling him. 

“It’s what you call omegas from the South side,” Zayn explained. “They call me a dame, because I’m a rich bitch from the north side. It also has something to do with metaphors of flying and being tied down, but all you need to know is that it’s all incredibly sexist and alphas have it way too easy.” 

“I refuse to believe that omegas don’t retaliate by calling betas and alphas names,” Harry looked at him, then bit a solid crunch through his toast. “Am I wrong?” 

“We call betas quickies and alphas knotheads,” Zayn shrugged. “Or just cuntfaces who  _ have it easy _ .” 

“Wow,” Harry rubbed at his own face exasperately, “Wow. Come here,” He pulled Zayn in, “I need to recharge before I get back to work. Stay inside, okay?”

“And what? Bake you cookies? Shave every part of my body for when you come home? Wear an apron, maybe?” Zayn taunted, but let Harry rub himself all over his neck. “Might as well bite me now.” 

“Nah,” Harry nuzzled his face against Zayn’s cheek. “Save that for later. Right now I just wanna squish you.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Zayn groaned. 

“You’re secretly pleased,” Harry nipped his shoulder. “Wanna ride me before I leave?” 

“Don’t you think we’re getting a bit too domestic?” 

* * *

“So, let me get this straight,” Louis rolled his eyes before continuing, “You’re going to bake him pot brownies and then wear a sexy apron that he can fuck you in when he gets home from work?” 

“I think he’s secretly into it.” 

“Have you looked at yourself? Alphas would be secretly into you shitting on their hands.” 

“Fucking putrid,” Zayn quoted Sean and shivered, “That’s so gross.” 

“I’m just saying that the Zayn I know isn’t a wife,” Louis shrugged, tossing the butter into the basket while waggling his brow. “We should get more butter, you’re right.” 

“I haven’t said anything!” Zayn threw his arms up, “And you’re pregnant, I’m not making you any weed butter.” He set the butter back a bit aggressively, making the elderly woman beside them jump. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t.” Louis smacked his lips, giving him air-kisses. 

He totally would. “Lou, just get me the fuckin’ sugar.” 

“Geez, what got in your knickers and died?” Louis stick his tongue out at him before disappearing into another aisle. Zayn rolled his eyes before remembering something, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He nearly flung it out of his hand trying to flip it around, quickly composing himself to dial the number that he needed to dial. 

“C’mon, Char. Please. Please just pick up,” He closed his eyes in the goddamn dairy section, tapping his foot anxiously. “Just tell me you’re okay.” 

The line rang four times before the sound of someone answering bounced into Zayn’s ear. “Hello hello?” 

“Fuck you, man,” Was the first thing Zayn said, breathing out a heavy sigh of relief. “Seriously, fuck you.” 

“Sorry for worrying you, I’m with Ni,” Charlie’s voice sounded breathy and like he was talking through a smile. “We made up.” 

“Oh, gross,” Zayn commented as Louis came back, holding a bag of sugar along with a package of muffins. “Are you staying there, then?” 

“Well, if I’m being honest, I don’t think he’s going to want me staying once I tell him we can’t get back together.” 

“The fuck?” Zayn asked loudly, causing an elderly woman next to him to give him the stink-eye. “You know what, it’s fine. Whatever, don’t tell me what’s going on in your head, because it’s clearly way too fucking much for my brain to process.” 

“You good?” Louis asked, taking the basket from him. 

“Sorry boo, I’ll be back before dinner.” Charlie cooed, then promptly hung up. 

“What a fuckface,” Zayn snidely remarked, giving the stink eye to a man passing by and shaking his head at him. “Shut the fuck up, I’m a dame.”

“I didn’t say anything. Your alpha lets you mouth off that wa—“

“Okay,” Louis said cheerily through a forced smile, “Sorry about that, you have to forgive him, he’s uh, pregnant,” He patted Zayn’s stomach and began to roll the cart away. “You know how emotional we get.”

“Oh,” The man placed a hand over his heart and arrogantly clicked his tongue at them. “You poor dear.”

“I’m not poor,” Zayn spat, resisting Louis’ harsh tug on his arm. “Fight me.” 

“Stop it, Zayn,” Louis sighed, picking up the ingredients and placing them on the carousel. “You’re getting engaged soon, you don’t have time to be picking silly classism and sexism fights in the middle of Tesco’s.”

He stopped at that and looked at Louis like he was being odd, “Me? I’m getting engaged soon, so I have to stop being me?” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Louis raised his eyebrow at him, handing the intimidated beta cashier his credit card. 

“Then what did you mean?” Zayn picked up a candy bar and tossed it on the carousel so that she’d be forced to run a new line and keep them there longer. “Suddenly why is it that you have to lie for me and say I’m pregnant as if we’re using that to our advantage?” 

“Suddenly why is it that you’re such a social justice activist, Zee? Engaging doesn’t equal taking action,” Louis stopped him before he could grab another bar. “We’re holding up the line and you’re making a scene.”

“Well, I’m fucking sorry,” Zayn muttered, snatching the bag off the counter and stomping out. “God, wait, I’m actually sorry.” 

Louis glared at him as he unlocked the car, glaring the entire time as he slipped into the driver’s seat. “You know you can get arrested for yelling at a pregnant omega. Causes distress.” 

“Yet again, another thing that you seem to believe is to our advantage, when really it’s just making everything wrong in our society to stay the same.” Zayn looked out the window as he said it. 

Louis took a sharp turn, “You know I’m right. Keeping your reputation is probably one of the only things making you eligible to even marry, Zayn. Considering your reputation has already got a thousand knife marks carved into it, I highly doubt you many chances left before you bleed out and Harry’ll be forced to leave you.” 

“Does the proposition of being a wife and homemaker excite you, Lou? Are you getting off on,” Zayn grabbed the dashboard when he took another sharp turn, “Submitting to your innate domestic ways and pleasing your benevolent alpha king?” 

“Liam  _ is _ a king, and you know that I genuinely believe it because he’s the kind of guy who implies he’d never stand for that shit. I have a legacy to protect; it’s not my job to change the world.” Louis’ voice cracked. 

“Then what is our job?” Zayn stabbed half-heartedly. “I’m going to quit school again. I don’t have any talents, I can’t even go to the shops by myself. Maybe I want to change the world.” 

His best friend looked at him with an aggressive sort of fondness in his eyes, “Maybe you’re not ready to get married, then.” He looked back to the road, and they were silent for the rest of the ride home. 

They turned the oven on the second they did, taking out their aprons and mixing bowls and whisks, fully expecting to muck it all up anyways. By the time the butter got to room temperature, Zayn was on his fourth beer and Louis nearly down with his carton of orange juice. “I  _ do _ love him, Lou. I don’t even know why I’m so, I’m so—fuck, I’m so upset all of a sudden.” Zayn sobbed into his arm. 

“You feel uncomfortable, that’s why,” Louis threw his hands up. “You’ve barely made it out of the last ten years alive, no one’s going to blame you. But it’s not fair to string him along, then.” 

“I want to marry him, goddammit. I want to fucking carry his pups and have a nice house and lots of dogs,” Zayn whimpered, weakly mixing the fat and sugars together. 

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“I’m changing, Lou,” Zayn handed the bowl over when it was clear he couldn’t handle it. “Suddenly I’m staring into the sky with nothing in my head, I haven’t gotten high off of anything in months, I made a friend who I care about so fucking much, and I managed to trap a really, really handsome guy.” 

Louis repeated, “What’s the problem?” Zayn rubbed at his eyes and he sighed, “Zayn, you know what happened when I told Liam I was pregnant?” 

“Mm?”

Louis measured something out and dumped it in, “A couple months ago Liam said that we weren’t ready to have a baby. That we’d probably marry if I did get knocked up, but it was so—I dunno, it just felt like I was someone who added too many variables in  _ his _ life. I don’t want to be someone’s burden like that. Then I told him and he was so happy in this comfortable and benign sort of way. So I guess it isn’t living. But it also isn’t bad,” He wiped Zayn’s tears away. “And that’s good enough for me.” 

* * *

“Zayn?” 

“Who is it?” Zayn leapt from his seat and ran to the front door. “Char?” 

“Yeah,” Charlie looked exhausted and his eyes were puffy. “I did it, Zaynie. I ended it.” 

“Why?” Zayn asked, totally aghast. “I don’t understand?” 

“A pretty dame like you wouldn’t,” Charlie hummed, slipping his shoes off and immediately scuffling towards him for a hug. “Why did I do anything at all? Now I’ve hurt him multiple times and he’s going to hate me and find me a joke. It’s all so valid and making me a terrible person. I don’t want to be a terrible person, but I also don’t know how to,” He then started to cry, which prompted Zayn to start crying as well. “I don’t want it, but I do. This is what real monsters are, huh?” 

“Come on, I made brownies,” Zayn whispered softly, kissing his cheek. “You’re too pretty to cry.” 

“God, that’s totally something a dame would say,” Charlie scoffed, holding Zayn’s hand into the kitchen. “Any of the birds back at the Ad would’ve either told me that I was joining the status quo or making the biggest mistake of my life. So why not do both?” 

“Do you want a beer?” Zayn said unhelpfully, shrugging. “Boy problems. So typical of us, don’t you think? Back then we didn’t get a choice about anything, maybe it’s better off to be repressed.” 

Charlie snorted, “What’s wrong with you? You’re typically much more passive than this.” 

Zayn shot him a look, “Take that back right now.” He pointed a brownie at him accusingly. “Don’t mess with me, I’m pissed.”

“Just hand me a beer,” Charlie rolled his eyes and playfully stuck out his tongue. “Don’t get all emotional.” 

Zayn firmly pushes Charlie’s hair out of the way so that he could see his face, with its soft edges and demanding lines where bones and skin just blessed him under the light. It wasn’t fair, he couldn’t understand why anyone as beautiful as he would push anyone anyway. “Why did you dump Niall again?” 

“Because I’m trash,” Charlie shrugged while turning side to side on the counter swivel chair, stuffing brownies in his face while both Louis and Zayn stopped to stare at him. “Because he deserves better.” 

“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Louis asked, taking a swig of his orange juice before running a hand down the side of Charlie’s face, admiring his beauty the same way Zayn had done just a few moments ago.

Charlie shook his head, and Zayn related all too well. “This is my peak. I’ve got great friends, food in my mouth, I’m even wearing Gucci for the first time in my life. I don’t care if this all ends tomorrow, right, but if I went back with him and I tried super hard to stay but I  _ still _ end up fucking it up somehow, that’s what I can’t live with.” 

Zayn leaned forward and kissed his nose, “So if I kick you out, you’ll go to him?” 

“Not a chance,” Charlie kissed him back. Louis sat down. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little dizzy. S’been happening a lot lately,” He sighed, placing a hand on his chest. “Liam finishes work in two hours.” He pawed Zayn’s hand off when he tried to feel his head, looking grumpy and annoyed. 

“What’s wrong with us?” Zayn asked out loud, pouting at the wall while Louis began to rub over his stomach. “Lou, you should ask him to come home now, what if something’s actually wrong?” 

“If anything’s wrong it’s probably because you stressed me out in the fucking shop today, Zayn,” Louis snapped, cheeks flushed. “Thanks, really, for emphasizing how much of a helpless idiot I am.” 

“How is this my fault? You’re the one who told me that it’s easier to settle in life than to pursue what you actually want,” Zayn shot back, putting the dishes in the sink and furiously wiping down the island. “If anything,  _ I’m _ the one who should be feeling helpless here.” 

“What happened?” Charlie asked, taken aback when both Louis and Zayn glared at him to shut up. “Okay, sorry.”

Louis sniffled angrily, and Zayn turned away from him, crossing his arms. “You’re so fucking ungrateful sometimes, Zayn, you know that?”

“How?” Zayn exploded, huffing at his best friend as he began to pack his things up. “Lou, come back here.”

“You give up on everything,” Louis shrugged his coat on, wiping at his eyes. “You get everything you want, Zayn. It’s not fair of you to be shitting on the life I lead just because it makes you feel so trapped thinking about it.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Zayn yelled, shaking his head at Safaa when she began to inch down the stairs. Once she went back up, he resumed, “I thought I was talking about my feelings to my best friend on feeling held down all the time,” 

Louis screamed, “Essentially describing  _ my _ life, Zayn. But you’re so fucking thick that you couldn’t even realize that much, could you? All ‘I’m so cute and helpless, I need rehab, I can’t dance anymore, I need Louis around to validate all my fucking weaknesses,’”

“Louis!” Charlie called out, running over. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

“I gave up everything too, Zayn,” Louis ignored him as he slipped on his shoes. “I gave up everything to be  _ your _ best friend, you didn’t even fucking realize. You couldn’t even pretend to care just a little bit more when I told you that I got knocked up.” 

“Lou,” Zayn wailed, shaking his head and covering his face, “Stop.” 

“I’ve always been there,” Louis sobbed back, “Not once did you ever…”

“Okay,” Charlie yanked him into his arms and gave Zayn a warning look, “Let’s sit down, okay? It’s not safe, love, no it’s not,” He held him closer once they made it to the couch, “We’ll call Liam, yeah?” 

“Fuck,” Louis hiccuped, burying his face in Charlie’s chest. “Fuck.”

“You feel warm,” Charlie cursed, trying to get Louis to calm down. “Lou, sweetie,” 

“I’ll fucking leave,” Zayn admonished, slamming the door before Charlie could say another word to stop him. 

* * *

“He’s not answering his phone,” Harry sighed, running a troubled hand through his hair. “God dammit.”

“Lou,” Liam said softly, gently holding Louis’ wrists with both hands. “Baby, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Louis sobbed, turning his head away to dodge Liam’s lips. “It’s my fault. I made him leave.” 

“He probably just went down the street to get a drink,” Liam consoled, finding the opportunity to slide Louis onto his lap. “Thanks for calling me, Charlie.” 

“Of course,” Charlie held up his now room temperature beer and went back to chugging. “I think he turned off his phone, Harry, there’s no use.” 

“You’re right,” Harry said instead of getting mad, sitting down and worriedly shaking his leg. “It’s not safe, not safe at all.” 

Louis whimpered louder, squirming until Liam finally dug his teeth in his neck to get him to stop. The pained cry he released made everyone in the room wince, Liam’s eyes flicking up dangerously. He growled at the both of them to get out, signaling that Louis was about to get a very firm talking to. 

“I should go out and find him,” Harry said to Charlie once they got out of the room, “I just don’t know where he’d go.” 

Charlie snorted, “You sure aren’t close enough to know each other’s basic tells but you’re saying you want to get engaged? No wonder he was freaking out.” 

“He was freaking out?” Harry’s eyes widened, and although Charlie tried to refuse it, the twitch in his eye gave it all away. “Oh my god. This is  _ my _ fault, I scared him.” 

“No, shut up,” Charlie flicked his nose. “Everyone’s a narcissist around here, I was just saying that it probably added to all the other things he was stressing out about lately.” 

“There are other things?” Louis sniffled as he opened the door, holding the side of his neck with flushed cheeks. “He didn’t tell me.” 

Liam followed him out, immediately grabbing Louis from behind and hugging his waist protectively. He started to whisper something that made Louis go completely red, so Charlie and Harry awkwardly stared at each other until they were finished, which was marked by Louis angrily shoving Liam’s arms down and stomping away. 

Liam turned to Harry, “We need to talk.” He gave Charlie an expectant look, waiting until he left before the big bad alphas began to discuss serious things that weak little omega apparently couldn’t hear. So he turned around and enveloped Louis in his embrace, sticking his nose in his neck and sighing. 

“I want to nest,” Louis admitted quietly, scrunching up Liam’s sweater in his arms anxiously. “I feel so pathetic. I made my best friend run away.”

“Stop it,” Charlie sighed, cuddling closer. “Let’s all just stop crying and having problems for one more second, yeah? You’re having a baby, Zayn’s about to get engaged, and I’m not underweight anymore. Everyone’s winning.” 

Louis went still, so still that Charlie could almost hear his thoughts vibrating into the air. It was only a couple more seconds of nerve wracking peace before he leaped up and hit Charlie’s jaw with his chest. “I need to go.”

“Oh my god, not this again,” He groaned, holding his chin gingerly. After closing his eyes for a second, he heard the door close, nearly causing whiplash and his brain to erupt. “Louis.” He ran out, where Louis was already unlocking the gate to the sidewalk. 

“Where are you going?” He yelled, huffing and running back for his own jacket and then tailing after the  _ pregnant omega. _ “Louis!”

“Don’t stop me,” Louis whined once Charlie got a hold of his arm, “Or else I’ll tell Niall that you were pregnant.” 

* * *

“Hi, baby boy.” 

Zayn flinched and looked up to see Anna with one raised eyebrow and a fond smile on her face. “What are you doing here, sweetie?” 

He sniffed, “Getting a drink.” 

“So you drove all the way to this part of town for what?” Anna gently shook his glass around. “For a vodka soda?” 

“I can’t be seen in any normal bars,” Zayn deflected, but it was so obvious that he was lying. Anna kept the heat on him until he finally admitted, “I don’t know any other bars.” 

“Technically,” She sighed as she sat down across from him. “This is a strip and host club, the bar is kind of just an obligation. I wish I could make our customers bring their own booze.” 

“Charlie’s safe, if that’s what you wanted to ask when you walked over here,” He downed the rest of his drink as she threw her head back and laughed. God, she was so pretty in this maternal sort of way, Zayn just wanted her to hug him and say that everything was going to be alright. 

He definitely was in the wrong part of town for that, though. 

“Needed someone to talk to?” Anna waved at a server for two more drinks, getting comfortable in her seat. “Or were you running away?”

“Maybe both,” Zayn scoffed softly at himself, “I didn’t drive. I walked here.” 

She rolled her eyes at him. “You idiot. Could’ve been attacked. Young, tight omegas are a hot commodity nowadays, that’s why I don’t let my birds go home with every rich alpha that trips in here.” 

Zayn chuckled, “Good thing I wasn’t attacked. I’m just gonna have my drink and send a car over. You don’t need to worry.” 

She fell silent, then opened her mouth, “I...uh, wow. Never been this hard for me, but. Is he still pushing that blonde kid away?” 

“Like a sumo wrestler.” Zayn nodded, oohing when the server brought over their drinks. 

“Okay,” Anna clapped the table. “S’on the house. See you later, baby boy.” 

“Bye, mum,” Zayn joked, and swear on it, she smiled. 

A few minutes later, someone else decided to join the table and take Anna’s drink. 

The man was tall, brown-haired and fair-eyed, with a very strong chin and hands that looked like they could uproot a tree. “Hi, you don’t work here.” 

“I don’t, this is true,” Zayn nodded, trying not to make it obvious how he was checking out the meal in front of him. “Careful, I’m taken.” 

“Don’t see a ring on your finger,” The man hummed, craning his neck. “Or a bite.” 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not taken,” Zayn tapped the edge of his glass, “You can take that one. Swear no one drinked it.” 

“You’re wearing pressed clothes,” He hummed again, a hand coming dangerously close to Zayn’s collar. “Designer, wouldn’t wanna skip on the ironing on that. Why are you in this part of town?”

“Actually, I’m a regular here, friends with some of the birds,” Zayn explained, intrigued by the man. “You’ve got quite an eye, most of the people where I come from don’t even blink at a sharp edge in a shirt.” 

“I’m not most people,” He responded with a shrug, sipping on the free drink. “You are stunning.” 

“I am taken,” Zayn put his hands up. “To a guy that wears the same shit I do, I’m pretty sure this is his belt. If you’re trying to rob me, everything else I’m wearing isn’t worth as much as this belt, so take the belt and make a run for it.” 

The man snorted, “You love the guy who’s taken you so much that you’re giving me advice on how to rob his thousand pound Gucci belt?” 

“Yeah,” said Zayn matter-of-factly. “You a regular?”

“You could say that,” The man nodded, looking Zayn up and down. “Can I be given permission to give another compliment?”

“It’s a fair exchange.” Zayn looked down to look through his pockets to pay for the drinks regardless of what Anna said. 

“You look like the friend of a guy I used to know. Prettiest dame I’d ever seen.” The man smiled coyly. 

“Do I?” Zayn leaned forward onto his palms. “There are lots of dames up north prettier than me. You should go up there sometime, the eye candy is priceless,” He sifted through some large bills, tipping an insane amount to the server. “They treat me very well here, the least I can do is pay up. Up north dames go around wearing Louis Vuitton fanny packs, it’s all fool’s gold to me, though.” 

The man whistled when Zayn dumped a hundred pounds on the table, “No wonder you’re one of their own.” 

“Hm?” 

He shook his head, “Sorry. I don’t suppose we’ve already introduced ourselves?” 

“Oh, how rude of me!” Zayn giggled, “My name’s Zayn.”

“Hi Zayn,” The man watched amorously as he sipped his drink, chuckling when Zayn bat his lashes. “I’m Noah.” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hang onto yo tiddies  
you about to go on the ride of a lifetime


	11. the color of love was never red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pacing for this chapter is awful, I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.

“I can’t believe I let you trick me,” Charlie huffed, hugging himself as he tried to keep up with Louis. “You don’t even know Niall.”

“My family invested in Odhran, for your information. I could phone Niall’s granny if I wanted to.” Louis explained, taking his scarf off to wrap around Charlie’s neck. They wrestled for a few minutes, both refusing to receive it until Charlie finally wrapped it back around Louis’ neck so tightly that it looked like he was strangling him. 

“Niall’s granny is dead,” Charlie huffed, grabbing Louis’ hand as they continued down the street. “I still can’t believe I followed you to my side of town.” 

“I still can’t believe you made me take a  _ bus _ ,” Louis whined, feet stamping on the ground. “There’s no other place Zaynie would go,” He started to tear up again, the fourth time tonight, causing Charlie to now become numb to his distress no matter how pregnant he was. 

“Okay, okay,” Charlie patted his face. “Stop crying. They don’t tolerate that shit here.” 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah? You good?” Charlie confirmed, pressing their foreheads together. “Tell me you’re good, or else I’m calling Liam right now.  _ That’s _ what you call a threat.” 

“I good, I good,” Louis nodded, and they continued again. “Did you switch your phone to Do Not Disturb?”

“Yeah, I did,” Charlie looked both ways before crossing the street, “Liam was blowing up. I sent him a ‘shut the fuck up’ and he proceeded to send texts in all caps.” 

“He’s going to be so mad,” Louis twiddled his thumbs, looking all of a fucking sudden hesitant. 

Charlie flicked his head, “Don’t go pussying out on me. We have another stupid damsel to save,” The familiar flashing lights of the Advantage were coming into view. “Why are you scared he’s going to be mad? Don’t tell me he hits you.” 

“No!” Louis gasped, absolutely aghast. “He would never!” 

Charlie snorted, “That’s what I used to say.” 

“I just don’t like worrying him, I’m gonna give him a heart attack one of these days,” Louis retorted angrily. “He’s a softie.” 

“I’m sure,” Charlie smiled, pushing on the front doors. “Annie!” 

In all his years of being a host, never had Charlie ever seen the bar empty and the music turned off. Anna immediately stood up from her desk, eyes wide and panicked. She yanked both of them into her office before he could utter another word. 

“You idiot,” Anna hissed, “I’m pretty sure I fired you,” 

“I thought you were joking—what’s going on?” Charlie asked, getting aggressively shushed and Louis immediately clutching onto his hand a bit tighter. 

Anna pinched the bridge of her nose and took in a sharp inhale, “Noah’s been coming a lot lately. He’s got shit on all of us, so we can’t say anything about it, but he just told us to turn everything off.” 

“What?” Charlie dropped Louis’ hand and walked forwards. “And why didn’t you tell me?” 

“So that you wouldn’t feel obligated to save all of us by literally taking the punches, Char. Now get out through the back, Cindy’ll hide you.” Her words made Louis snap his head toward Charlie with an expression that screamed ‘Is that true?’

The air around him was completely changed. The room fell silent, only their breaths were audible. When it was clear that he wouldn’t ‘get the fuck out,’ Anna grabbed Louis and headed out through the other door, scolding him for protesting. 

Charlie slammed the door they came in through open, walking outside with his heart leaping into his throat. “Ba—baby?” 

“Ha!” 

A shiver ran down his spine and he clenched his fingers so that they wouldn’t shake. “Hi, baby.”

Noah stepped out from behind a booth, looking dashing and unsuspicious as he always did. “Been looking for you, birdie.” 

“I know,” Charlie walked up to him, but couldn’t make himself go within five feet. “Sorry ‘bout that. Was starting the hustle somewhere else for a bit.” 

“Yeah, you always did have a knack for lying to me,” Noah smirked, holding his hand out. “You know, you really should’ve said something about your new friends.”

* * *

Harry had to lock Liam inside a room; push an entire bookshelf against the door so that he couldn’t get out and destroy everything. “Liam! We’re going to find them, alright?” 

“Why do they think, ugh—fuck!” Liam roared, followed by a crash, which Harry was definitely going to have to pay Zayn’s parents for. “It’s not safe, what don’t they understand about…”

Harry looked at Safaa, who had been trying to get ready for bed for the last twenty minutes by herself, but now was having trouble falling asleep and had been innocently looking up at Harry during this whole fiasco. “Hey, salmon. Go in your room, I’ll be there in a minute, uh, choose a book.” 

Safaa pouted and walked away, holding her stuffed elephant by the ear. “M’kay. Where’s Zaynie?” 

Harry elected to not answer her, staring right at the books of the bookshelf he just had to ram against the door. 

“Harry,” Liam sighed, sounding exhausted and awfully pitiful, “You can let me out. I’ll—shit, I’ll pay for what I’ve broken.” 

Harry shrugged as if Liam could see him, “I mean, that’s not really a motivator for me, man. There’s a kid here, don’t want to make her see you as the Hulk.” 

“Okay, yeah, but keeping me contained also isn’t doing much to find our omegas,” Liam reasoned. “I just needed to release it, s’all.”

Harry winced, “Why don’t I believe you? Stay there, I’ll call the police.” 

“...Fine.”

He closed his eyes and breathed deep, testing his hands to see if they still worked, clenching them and unclenching them. “You’re fine. It’s fine. He’s just being a little shit.” He walked right into Safaa’s room and told her the same things, then he read her the first chapter of Pride and Prejudice. 

* * *

“Hm?” That came out a lot higher than Charlie expected it to. “What’d you mean?” 

“Saw you the other day flouncing around with a couple of dames,” Noah licked his teeth, “Thought I recognized one.” 

His blood went cold. “Oh, really?” 

“Yeah,” Noah laughed, pulling something out of his pocket and shooting the ceiling with it. There were panicked cries coming from about ten of his co-workers, and Charlie couldn’t help but think this was all his fault. “And I know there’s another one that came with you, saw in the cameras.” He pointed to the CCTV monitor hanging above them with his gun. 

“Oh, leave him outta this,” Charlie was having a lot of trouble acting cool and collected this time. 

“Baby, if you don’t bring him with us, I’m going to shoot the one I’ve already got in my car,” Noah hummed, leaning forward to kiss Charlie on the lips. “You’re going pale, love. You feeling alright?” 

“Yeah,” Charlie’s voice shuddered when Noah swept an arm around his waist and began to twirl the gun by its trigger, laughing when he wiggled out of his grasp to hold Louis to his chest. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Noah asked softly, pressuring the two into the street. “You remember my car, right, honey?” 

Charlie squeezed Louis’ hand so hard that his knuckles went white, breath hitching in his throat when he saw a head of fluffy black hair already sitting in the backseat of the car. “I—I call shotgun.” 

Louis shook his head at him, but Charlie knocked their heads together since that was all he could do as a response. Noah graciously opened the door for them, practically shoving Louis into the backseat like he was being arrested. 

“Careful, baby, he’s pregnant,” He was definitely failing at hiding his panic. Caught a glimpse of Zayn, whose eyes were closed and head lolled to the side and Charlie almost dry-heaved. “Careful.”

“Yeah, I know, honey,” Noah dug his hand through Charlie’s pockets to find his phone, promptly tossing it into the street, then expectantly looking back at Louis to do the same. Once Louis proved that he didn’t even bring his phone with him, Noah started the car and raced down the street. 

* * *

“What do you mean, he’s missing?” Trisha shrieked, still in her charity-event garb and shoes. “How do you lose a person?” 

“He and Louis had a fight and they both just stormed off before we could catch them, we thought they’d be back by now,” Harry tried to explain, but no matter what he’d day, it still looked terribly bad. 

“To think that I trusted you with my son—“ 

“Trisha,” 

“No, Yaser,” Trisha fumed, “How are you supposed to take care of him if you can’t even make sure he’s not running into the night?” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s voice cracked. “I should’ve never let this happen.” 

“God,” She covered her face with her hands, “Just please get out. Get out of my house.” 

“Daddy?” Safaa had heard all the shouting and come downstairs, “What’s wrong?” 

“Come here, my love,” Yaser scooped her up into his arms and gave a look to both her mom and her potential—not so potential now—brother in law. “Everything’s fine, but it won’t be if you don’t get enough sleep.”

“The police are here, the lights are really bright,” She complained.

“We’ll shut the blinds and turn on a playlist.”

By the time they turned the corner on the second floor, Harry was already halfway out the door, Liam following his heels. 

* * *

“Careful,” Charlie nearly shouted when Noah tossed a lethargic Zayn onto a bed, they were in a place that he had never seen before in all his years of living under his abuse. “Lou, Lou, come here.” 

“Char,” Louis rasped, fleeing Noah’s grip and running into his arms. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—“

“This is not your fault,” Charlie cut him off. “It’s mine. Stay here and try to wake Zayn up, okay? I’ll be right back.” He kissed Louis’ forehead and straightened up, raising his eyebrows expectantly at Noah as if nothing about this was wrong. 

“Jesus, is it  _ your _ kid?” Noah rolled his eyes, roughly yanking him to his side before slamming the door shut. Several bolts and locks clicked into place, each one sinking Louis’ hope more and more. 

He ran over to the bed and started to shake Zayn, getting up on it to gain height leverage. “Zaynie, Zaynie wake up.” 

“Hm?” 

“We’ve been kidnapped, you—you melodramatic fool,” Louis quietly sobbed, patting all over Zayn’s face. “So get your shit together, please?” 

“Oh god,” Zayn opened his eyes and began to roll off the bed, barely clinging to the sheet long enough for Louis to pull him back up. “Oh my god.” 

“I’m sorry for snapping,” Louis rubbed at his eyes helplessly. “I’m sorry,” 

“I’m sorry I snapped back,” Zayn pulled him down for a hug. “Where are we?”

“I dunno,” Louis shivered, “I’m so cold.” 

“This is seriously so freaky,” Zayn looked around, wrapping Louis up with his coat. “It’s like he’s been planning this out for a while.”

“I’m scared.” Louis admitted quickly, tears running down his face. “I’m so scared, I’m…”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Zayn kissed Louis’ head and held onto him tightly. “They’re gonna find us soon enough,” He whispered, gently turning Louis’ torso to show him a very thin chain around Zayn’s neck. “It’s a tracker. I don’t go anywhere without it.” 

Louis’ eyes softened, “Because of what happened back then?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn shrugged. “That’s all there is to it. Makes me feel safe, even now.” 

“Okay,” Louis cuddled closer. “I trust you.”

Just outside the door, Charlie was wrapped up in Noah, lying sideways and watching the telly. He wanted to gag just from the feeling of his breath down his neck, how this so naturally progressed as though it always happened.

Well, it did, but now there were other people involved, other people in danger. He was just going to have to clench his jaw until he found a way to get them all out. 

It was a motel room of some sort, a very big one, judging by the surplus of rooms it had. That’s all he could think before he felt Noah start to kiss down his neck. 

That was the thing about Noah. He never went farther than kisses, soft touches, a few dirty words here and there. It only made him seem more harmless, and that was 19 year old Charlie’s Kryptonite. “Ba—baby.” 

“Yeah?” Noah said against his skin. 

“Um, so, I think you’re really sick,” Charlie said gently, rubbing the back of Noah’s neck in the way he knew would calm him down. “Like, we should go to the doctor, baby, you’re burning up.” 

“I’m okay, just need to sleep,” Noah rolled over on top of him, snuggling his face into Charlie’s neck. “God, baby, I missed you so much. Don’t leave again.” His grip tightened around Charlie’s arms, even through his shaking state he managed to fall asleep and trap him in. 

In the other room, Zayn fingered his necklace with one hand, combing through Louis’ hair with the other. All he could do was hope that someone remembered. 

* * *

“Harry,” Liam offered him a cigarette. “I quit like five years ago, but I think tonight raises an exceptional exception.” 

Harry chuckled, taking it from Liam and moving closer to light them together. “I think I just lost my marriage proposal.”

“They’re just worried and scared, they know it’s not actually your fault,” Liam reassured. “Zayn’s been pulling shit like this since the day he was born.” 

Harry winced, “First time under my watch, though.” 

“He isn’t like a pet or a kid, Haz,” Liam threw in a nickname and that alone was enough to knock Harry back onto his ass. “Maybe some omegas are like that, but Zayn and Lou are far from it.” 

“The police found Charlie and Zayn’s phone where the Advantage is, now they’re all scrambling to search the entire south side. Money is a powerful motivator.” Harry scoffed, hands shaking a bit. 

“That’s not something we haven’t known already,” Liam shrugged. “I remember the day the Maliks got robbed. Louis didn’t let go of Zayn, even if we tried to pull them apart. Bloody inseparable, and if his best friend was suffering from PTSD, there was no way he was going to go on and be happy. Even quit dance for him,” Liam sighed. “Can you believe that? They even quit their dreams together, and Louis—swear to God—went with Zayn to every one of his group therapy sessions.”

“So this fight was something different,” Harry licked his teeth and threw the cigarette onto the floor. “That’s not any less worrying.” 

“If anything happens to Louis, I’m going to rip the person responsible apart. Literally, figuratively, in all the ways I can,” Liam seethed, tapping his cigarette off and blowing the smoke away from Harry’s face. “That’s the promise we make, Haz, when we get married.”

“That’s quite a medieval promise,” Harry hummed, patting Liam on the back. “I’ve never seen you so angry.” 

“How are you staying so calm?” Liam’s jaw was clenched to the point that the vein in his neck had begun to pop out. 

Harry laughed bitterly, “I’m not. The second we find them I’m going to punch a tree down.” 

“There has to be some way to find them,” Liam disposed of his cigarette. “We’re acting too nonchalant about this, if they’re in the south side—“

“Charlie’s  _ with them _ in the south side, and trust me, he’s one tough bird,” Harry dug his heels into the cement, glaring at the ground. “We’ll just have to wait and see—wait.” 

He stopped, then snapped his head up and looked at the quiet street just outside of Zayn’s house. “Oh, fucking shit.” He kicked the gate back open and began to run towards the house, kicking that door open and calling out to Trisha and Yaser. 

“Harry? What the hell are you doing?” Liam ran after him. 

Trisha‘s face contorted to that of fury when Harry stormed back in, about to say something but was cut off by a curt “Does Zayn still wear his necklace?” 

* * *

“Lou, do you have pins?” Zayn asked quietly, still hugging his best friend tightly as they had been whilst backed up in a corner for the last hour. “I think I can pick the locks.” 

Louis shook his head, “Zee, no, he has a gun.” 

Zayn ducked his head when he realized he was right, settling on coming closer to cuddle. “Charlie’s still out there with him. I’m so scared something’s gonna happen to him, Lou.” 

“You should be more scared of whatever he drugged you with,” Louis hissed. “What even happened?” 

“I—I didn’t know who he was, and he sat down across from me and he was so nice and then I think I bent down for a second and that’s when he slipped something into my drink,” Zayn’s voice became shaky. “This is all my fault, I’m so sorry, Lou.” 

“No,” Louis said through a sniffle, so it sounded more like a ‘doh’ followed by a head rubbing against Zayn’s chest. “It’s mine. I picked the fight.” 

Charlie could hear what the two were saying from outside, which was seriously bad news. Noah was asleep now, but if he had heard what they were saying about picking locks and tracking devices—the thought was unbearable to let in. He softly raised a hand to Noah’s hair and petted it to see if he was still conscious, softly sighing in relief when it was clear that he was a brick. Charlie then expertly removed himself from the couch, sliding smoothly out from under Noah’s heavy body managing to only make him shift in his slumber. He then looked for some restraints or rope, but when he couldn’t find any, he elected to just squat onto the floor for a second to catch his breath before proceeding. 

“I think I heard something,” He heard Lou whisper, and to his panic, Noah shifted some more, raising the level of fear inside Charlie’s gut way past the caliber of fainting. “Did you hear something?” 

Charlie bit his lip and crawled over to the door, but just as his fingertips ghosted over it, he gasped and stood back up, tiptoeing back over to Noah where the gun was peeking out from his pocket. 

It was held down by his arm, which Charlie knew to be heavy on its own, so there was no way he was going to be able to get it out without him dangerously stirring. This entire situation was so insane because of the fact that it wasn’t insane at all. This was probably the fourth time that this has happened to him, which also meant that he knew Noah’s patterns. 

He’d be relatively benign once he managed to catch up to Charlie, but then progressively get worse and worse with mood, become more confused and lash out. 

There was no way he was going to let Zayn and Louis be in the crossfire. He quickly went back to the door, and with a deep breath and a gush of adrenaline running through his arms, he unlocked every bolt, loudly clanging together as his two best friends clamored and freaked out inside. 

He could hear Noah stirring already, but he didn’t care. Once all the locks were disengaged, he yanked the door open and opened his mouth to alert them. 

He didn’t get much farther than “Zayn!” before getting hit by something and falling onto the floor. Truth was, it didn’t even hurt all that much, but it failed to knock him out, only rendering his vision black around the edges and unable to move as Noah stepped over him with the gun clasped in his hand. 

* * *

“Oh my god, it worked,” Trisha gasped, muffling a sob into Yaser’s chest when the monitor sprung a marker and flashed on an exact location. “Harry, it—it worked.” 

Harry placed his hands onto the table and exhaled deeply, “Thank God. Where is he?” 

“He’s at an inn,” The officer announced, a wave of others bustling and hurrying outside into their cars. Harry looked over at Liam, who gave him an expressionless wash over his face and movements, swallowing before taking his phone out. 

“What are you doing, Liam?” Harry asked, bounding over to grab his arm. “We found them, let’s go?” 

Liam shook his head, “There’s something I need to do first.” 

Harry threw his hands up, “What is it?” 

“We’ve got to let Niall know, don’t we?” Liam’s voice shook. “The workers at the Advantage, they all said that his ex-boyfriend had a gun and threatened to kill all of them.” 

Harry bit his lip, “Would Charlie want him to know? He’s spent an awful amount of effort trying to end things with him, maybe we shouldn’t.” 

“Haz, there’s no way that not calling him would be doing anyone a favor,” Liam shook his head, “Take your car, I bet the police are halfway across town by now. Have Trisha and Yaser notify their doctor and lawyer, then we’ll alert the paramedics to go to their hospital.” 

“Okay,” Harry breathed, bottom lip trembling. After grabbing a few blankets and their coats, they rushed outside to the car, speeding down the street into the night. 

The mere sight of it would’ve made anyone go mad. A hundred police officers rushing with maddening sirens and stopping traffic here and there. Harry managed to speed past all of them, knuckles gripped around the wheel so harshly it began to indent into the flesh of it. They sat in complete, jittering silence, unable to say or think anything, still in disbelief over what had just happened. After a while, Harry decided he couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I lied earlier.”

“About not being calm?” Liam kept his gaze out the window. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, heartbeat picking up when the navigation system alerted them that they were almost there. “I  _ am _ calm. I just didn’t want to say anything because there’s no way I’m going to make this my pity party.” 

“Well, you’re bound to anyways,” Liam punched his arm lightly. “And we’re brothers now. There’s nothing that connects us more than an extremely traumatic event. So let it out.” 

“I’m calm because...because we’re lucky,” Harry said sheepishly, as if he couldn’t even believe it himself. “I can’t have any opinions about most of this. I wasn’t born and raised on either side. For all we know, Noah’s mentally ill and he needs help.” 

“I’m sure he does, Haz, but you’re a billionaire. You can’t expect me to understand that you empathize with what—“

“I was adopted,” Harry cut him off. “Well, more like my entire family was adopted. The only reason my life turned out like this is because an old lady decided she wanted to keep me around. Before that, the four of us used to live in a one bedroom apartment.” 

Liam went silent. 

“So I can’t help but feel lucky all the time, even in a situation like this. Look at us, sending in a hundred officers for a ten man job,” Harry reasoned, “The biggest thing that makes us feel unsettled about this is that the bastard hasn’t demanded anything we can actually give.” 

“No, Haz. What’s making me feel unsettled is that my fiance was kidnapped.” Liam said as he opened the car door, hurriedly running outside. 

“Right.” Harry nodded to himself, following him with the massive police force surrounding the area. 

* * *

“I’m sorry, we’re sorry,” Zayn shifted in front of Louis and put his hand out front. “We didn’t mean to.” 

“Yeah, you did,” Noah stood in the doorway, Charlie’s body on the floor behind him. “How did you call the police?” 

“Zaynie, the gun—“ 

“Shh.” 

Noah cocked his head to the side, “I took your phones,” He pointed the hand with the gun in it towards them. “Did you lie to me?” He asked Louis, who shook his head. 

“The—the gun,”

“Yeah, it’s a gun,” Noah answered and Louis froze again with a hand on Zayn’s back. “What about it? You won’t listen if I don’t hold this at you.” 

“I think you should, you, you should check on Charlie,” Zayn’s composed sentence faltered into a whimper. “I think he’s bleeding.” 

“He’s okay,” Noah shrugged, blinking when the flashing lights came in through the window. “He lies to me all the time. He deserves it.” 

Louis yanked Zayn’s head back and whispered something in his ear, making their eyes go wide. Noah narrowed his eyes at them. “What are you whispering about?” 

“You’re sweating,” Louis pulled back and said softly, “You’re sweating a lot. I don’t think you’re well.”

“I’m fine,” Noah snapped. “I just want to sleep, and you called the fucking police? I just wanted to sleep with—with him,” He looked back at Charlie, who was still on the floor, lolling his head from side to side. “He keeps making me mad.” 

There was shouting outside, and Zayn grabbed Louis and held onto him as tight as he could, hyperventilating and shaking. “Oh my god, wait,” 

He could hear Harry shouting at someone, Liam too, more pounding footsteps kicking door after door down in the inn. It was only a few more seconds before the footsteps got to their door, officers shouting commands and threats at Noah, telling him to release the  _ hostages _ . Once they broke the door down and saw an alpha standing over a bleeding omega with a gun in his hand, his fate was sealed. 

“Wait!” Zayn screamed a bit too late, shutting his eyes and crying into Louis’ hair. What felt like hundreds of people rushing in thundered in his ears, paramedics picking Charlie up and completely hiding his body from view. “Wait,” 

“Zaynie,” Louis sobbed, shaking his head when one of them came towards them. “Tell them, tell them.” 

Zayn flinched when the officer tried to touch him, screaming to get away from them. “It’s alright, love, he can’t hurt you anymore.” 

“The gun had blanks,” Zayn sobbed, crushing Louis’ cheek against his. “It had blanks.” 

“Oh god.”

“Zayn!” He heard Harry shout. “Where is he? Why were there gunshots?” 

Louis twitched when the officer came closer, shaking his head. “In here, sir.” 

“Is he dead?” Was the first thing Zayn asked Harry after he pushed his way into the room. “Did they, did they…?” 

“Baby,” Harry rushing towards them and moving the officer out of the way. “Are you okay?” 

Zayn shook his head and let Louis go, backing up into the wall before covering his face with both hands. “No.” 

Liam ran in and grabbed Louis, carrying him outside before he could even say anything, leaving just Zayn and Harry in the room, right across from the doorway where Charlie was getting tended to and Noah was most  _ definitely dead.  _ “Sweetheart,” 

“The gun had blanks,” Zayn cried, grabbing onto Harry’s hand when he offered it and got swept into his embrace. “He was confused.” 

“No, baby, he was dangerous,” Harry kissed his head and inspected his body, “Are you hurt?” 

Zayn shook his head, “No,” he cried harder when Harry wiped his tears away, smashing his face into his chest. “M’scared, no,” He protested when Harry stood up, holding him up and heading towards the doorway. “No!”

“Close your eyes, baby, we just need to get past the threshold, okay? You can’t even see anything,” Harry whispered, rushing out before Zayn could even answer. 

“That’s not the point,” Zayn trembled, making a soft noise when Harry got them outside and a hand on the back of his neck. “He was sick.” 

“He had been hurting Charlie for a long time, baby,” Harry ran his hands through his hair. “He wasn’t a good person.” 

“S’not right,” Zayn rasped, tears streaming down his face. “It was only four hours.” 

“I know,” Harry carried them to the ambulance, where they covered him in a blanket and checked his arms and legs. “Baby, are you okay?” 

“Is Lou okay?” Zayn held onto Harry’s arms as he looked around, “The gun had blanks,” 

“I know,” Harry kissed him repeatedly, snuggling as close as he could. “I know, baby.” 

“Is he dead?” Zayn asked, blinking back tears. “Where’s Lou?” He asked, looking around the scene. 

“Okay, I’m taking you to the hospital,” Harry gave him a concerned look, carrying him to the car where Liam and Louis were cuddling in the backseat. 

“Zee? You okay?” Louis asked timidly, getting shushed by Liam and smothered a little bit more. “What’s wrong with him?” 

Harry wrapped Zayn up with more blankets like a burrito, “Liam, can you drive to the hospital? I dunno where it is.” He slipped in and sandwiched Zayn in between him and Louis, breathing against his skin and murmuring softly. 

“Hazza?” Zayn asked, smiling a little bit when Harry kissed his eyelid. “I’m sleepy.” 

“I know,” Harry kissed him again. “I’m so sorry, baby.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Zayn poked his chin. “It’s Noah’s fault. He shouldn’t have kidnapped me.” 

“Very, very true,” Harry maintained eye contact. “You know where you are?” 

“No,” Zayn answered plainly making everyone gasp. “We’re driving and it’s dark outside.” 

“Oh,” Harry sighed, feeling his back and legs. “He didn’t touch you at all?” 

“No, he didn’t.” Zayn reassured, “Where’s Charlie?” 

“He’s on his way to the hospital, baby. Last I checked he was talking,” Harry murmured, nuzzling their noses together. 

“I feel bad,” Zayn admitted softly, “It’s all because I ran off.” His sad, helpless whimper made Harry’s bottom lip tremble. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Harry whispered, lips pressed against Zayn’s head. “I should’ve protected you. This is my fault.” 

Zayn finally broke down and wailed, losing all sense of holding his body upright as he slumped against Harry, entire body moving along to his heaves. “I wasn’t even scared—why am I crying?” 

“ _ I  _ was scared,” Louis retorted, “You’re just in shock.” His alpha made a wounded noise from the front seat, Louis making one back. 

“It’s okay to cry,” Harry cooed, rubbing his hands up and down Zayn’s arms and back in an attempt to comfort him. “Sometimes it’s just a release.” 

“I think he was sick,” Zayn said honestly, clenching Harry's shirt in his fist. “He looked so ill, Hazza,” 

“I know, baby,” Harry shushed him, nosing and licking at the back of his neck comfortingly. “Show me your neck, Zaynie.” 

Zayn reluctantly craned his head to the side in submission, squeaking when Harry’s teeth sunk down into his neck and he was held until he went pliant in his grip. “Mm,” He whined, rubbing himself all up on Harry. 

“Haz, when is your rut starting?” Liam asked, eyebrows knit together. “You smell rank, mate.” 

“He’s too busy rubbing his saliva all over Zaynie,” Louis said, detached from reality. “Li, are we almost there?” 

“We’re here, love. Don’t you worry.” Liam looked at his mate through the rearview, heart clenching something disastrous when he saw the tears flowing freely off Louis’ cheeks. 

Zayn peered up at Harry through his eyelashes, all clumped together from crying, holding him close to his chest like he’d disappear if he blinked. “Hazza?” 

“Mm,” Harry off-handedly remarked, licking a stripe up the side of Zayn’s neck while grunting. “Hospital.” He got out of the car with Zayn in his arms before Liam even stopped the car, rushing towards Urgent Care with a wild look in his eyes. 

The receptionist took one look at both of them and just  _ knew _ . “This way, sir.” 

Fucking ridiculous. His alpha was about to go into some kind of comatose aggro-state, he was shivering for no reason, and now he’s wasting everyone’s time at this damn hospital just because he can. “I’m fine,” Zayn tried to tell her weakly, but she just gave him a small smile as he was sat down in a wheelchair, “No really, I’m not hurt anywhere.” 

“Are you pregnant?” She asked as she pushed him along, Zayn shook his head. “You’re in shock, love. Pupils are blown, hands are shaking, you’ve been crying as well,” She comforted softly, swiping a finger on Zayn’s cheek. “We need to make sure you’re okay, little one.” 

Little one? Oh, bitch. This was one of those hospitals that took extreme measures in taking care of the weaker sex, Zayn could already tell that this beta nurse was going to make it her sole duty to make sure that he leaves this hospital still fertile. 

“Hazza?” Zayn asked timidly, not liking the stares he was beginning to get from staff and other actual patients alike. “Hazza,” 

Harry’s eyes were glazed over, his shirt rumpled and hair just absolutely all over the place. And it was Zayn’s fault. “Zaynie, shush.” His voice came out in a low alpha timbre, making Zayn’s jaw shut immediately even as he was carried to a private room. 

“This is a bit much?” He asked again when Harry lifted him onto the bed, and suddenly there were three doctors on him. “Uh,” 

“Baby,” Harry pet at his ear, “They’re just trying to help.”

“Trying to help what?” Zayn squirmed, lip trembling when they began to test his blood pressure. “Stop it.” When he yanked his arm away from them and yelped, Harry sighed, hopping up onto the bed with him and sliding Zayn onto his lap. 

“Zayn, you’ve been shaking for the last hour, sweetheart. Omegas can go into toxic shock from traumatic events,” Harry tried to reason, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“So can alphas,” Zayn jabbed, “I feel fine. I just need to go home and sleep. I need sleep.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” Harry pushed his hair away from his face. “But aside from tonight, you’ve been acting strangely.” 

“No I haven’t,” Zayn started to cry when they expertly stuck an IV into his arm. “Ow, fuck.” 

“Why were you and Louis fighting, baby?” Harry asked, waiting until Zayn became a little more pliant. “Tell me.” 

That part of Zayn inside him that couldn’t do much but obey when an alpha commanded him to do something brewed and boiled over, just rising the panic level of this whole situation. “We were fighting because…I don’t want to marry you.” 

Harry froze. “Sorry?” 

“I mean,” Zayn gulped, still trembling. “I got scared about who I’d be if I did. And I said a lot of hurtful things to Lou and that’s why this is all my fault,” He snuffled, even harder when Harry kissed his eyelid. “I thought I was gonna die.” 

“Yeah,” Harry vocalized in solidarity, “You’re okay now.” 

“And I was so scared that I wasn’t gonna see you again,” Zayn whimpered when another doctor walked into the room. “Hazza, please,” 

Harry nodded and glared at all the medical professionals bustling around the high profile patient. “Get out.” 

“But sir—“

Harry growled, a sound that made Zayn want to immediately bend over, “Get out.” 

Everyone scuffled out of the room, “And I’ve been off birth control.” 

“What?” Harry asked exasperatedly. “What else did you not tell me?” 

“I dunno,” Zayn bared his neck as wide as he could, wanting Harry to punish him, hold him down for being so rebellious and a bad omega. “I’m sorry for not telling you, Hazza, I’m so sorry.” 

Harry shook his head and kissed him softly, “It’s fine, sweetheart. I know you were planning on telling me.” 

“I really was going to,” Zayn hiccuped, “What are they injecting in me?” 

“It’s just a nutrient bag, in case you’re actually pregnant,” Harry shrugged, rubbing Zayn’s soft cheeks. “But I know you’re not.”

“You of all people would know,” Zayn laughed wetly, all of his words coming out like ‘doh’ and ‘awl.’ 

“You know how I was talking about how alphas and omegas used to mate in front of their whole packs?” Harry asked, trying to distract Zayn from how cold the room was. When he nodded, Harry continued, “Alphas also used to curl up around their omegas when they slept to protect them, nearly just covering them. It was the greatest sign of love.” 

Zayn remarked, “Sounds a bit counterintuitive. You getting stabbed in the back doesnt help me whether or not I was to get stabbed in the back while we slept.”

“Still, love makes us do irrational things,” Harry rubbed their noses together. “I would get stabbed in the back for you.” 

“You’re so busy though,” Zayn complained. “Too many people depend on you. If you die, over a thousand people’ll lose their jobs.” 

Harry sighed, “Ever the Robin Hood you are,” His smile was so fond, it was grating the inside of Zayn’s mouth like a sour candy. “I love you so much, Zayn Malik.” 

“More than anything else in the entire world?” Zayn asked timidly, as though he was actually afraid Harry would say something else. 

“Yep, more than anything else,” Harry paused to scent him, “In this entire universe.” 

“Stop saying such dumb things,” Zayn retorted, making the both of them laugh. “I feel better.” 

“Good,” Harry smiled. “So I guess this means you can’t accompany my next rut?” 

“Liam mentioned you stinking,” Zayn hummed, “You smell so good.” 

“You’ll most definitely get pregnant if you did,” Harry just couldn’t stop kissing him. “These little curves, you’re so skinny and still so voluptuous. How.” He rubbed at Zayn’s hips and grabbed his waist. 

“I’m hormonal,” Zayn shrugged. “And you’re even more hormonal. Why can’t I be with you for your rut?” 

Harry gave him a look, “Baby, you know why.” 

“So what if I get pregnant?” 

“You just told me you got petrified about being mated to me for life, I think having pups is out of the question right now,” Harry shook his head, kissing Zayn’s face repeatedly. “You just went through an extremely traumatizing experience. Why aren’t you acting traumatized?” 

Zayn snorted, “How sensitive you are.” 

“Sorry.” 

“I’ve been through worse,” Zayn answered anyways, shrugging lightly as he cuddled into Harry’s embrace. “Both Lou and I have. It’s amazing what being sheltered can actually do for you in its most ironic sense.” 

“That makes me sad,” Harry said quietly, “Don’t say things like that, you’ll bring back all those painful memories?”

“No,” Zayn patted his cheek lovingly. “That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t hide or push them away, Haz. Everyone—everyone thinks I do, right, but...I don’t. I never have,” Harry began to pet his head. “Even when I was using, it was all because I was trying to fight it; losing those memories. Every single time I broke a toenail, every single gunshot I heard, every single pointe shoe I sowed, if I forget them then I have basically nothing of my childhood.” 

When Harry didn’t respond and only wistfully gazed at him, Zayn sighed, “Don’t look at me like that. Tonight was a kind of a lesson, you know? Everyone asked why I like Charlie so much, even Lou. To me, the answer’s always been a little obvious.” 

“I’m stupid, so please just tell me,” Harry whined, rubbing soft circles on Zayn’s shoulder with his thumb. 

“We’re so similar,” Zayn laughed sheepishly. “God, one look at ‘im and you just  _ know _ you’ve been through the same level of pain—it’s just the circumstances that are different. He’s a body with a heart and a mind and a mouth, just like me. Just like Noah, just like you, Li, everyone.”

Harry whispered, “And here I was thinking I had such a perspective.” 

Zayn giggled, “You do, love. You do. Just some things I’ll always be better at, like me not pressing charges if Noah survives.” 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “What?” 

Zayn hummed, “Hazza, baby, you know full well if it were you or Li in his position tonight would’ve ended real different,” His words stifled Harry’s thoughts and tongue. “And that’s the truth. Plus, it’s probably not what Charlie’s gonna want regardless.” 

Harry couldn’t understand how in the world he could have ever had the luck to fall in love with such an intrinsically insightful and beautiful soul, lest hold him in his arms like this. “Zayn Malik, you are a knockout.” 

“Wow, you just like, sent a whole wave of alpha stink at me just now.” 

* * *

Charlie woke up to a nurse roughly shoving an IV into his arm, almost glaring at him like he was wasting her time. His throat hurt, his head throbbed, and he didn’t know if he even had the strength to breathe. 

“Hey,” The nurse rudely snapped at him in his concussed daze, “Do you have an alpha you can call?” 

He wanted to laugh, but his current situation gave him absolutely no sympathy in order to do so, so he just shook his head at her weakly with a smug grin on his face. As if he was winning. 

“Jesus, creepin’ me out with your smiling,” She muttered, scribbling something harshly in his file before throwing her gloves away like she just had to treat a cockroach. “If you don’t get discharged within the hour, I’ll know you’re just lying to sleep in a warm bed for the night. Don’t try anything, and if I catch you trying to steal morphine or anything like it, I will call the police.”

A tear escaped the side of his cheek, and her stony glare softened just for a second. “Well, uh.” She didn’t have anything to say after that, so she left, leaving him voiceless, confused, and broken-hearted. 

He wanted Niall so bad, there was no other way to say it. So he reached up to feel his neck, but the minute he realized that the diamond necklace Niall had given him was nowhere to be found, Charlie started screaming at the top of his lungs. 

* * *

They sent Zayn home after ten hours of observation, and for the first time in Harry’s life did he really, really  _ see _ it. 

Not just all the talk he’d been shouting out his entire life where he pretended to understand what Zayn meant about  _ north _ and  _ south _ side,  _ using _ and  _ forgetting _ . Even as they walked out of the hospital, four doctors tailed them, kissing their asses as they blatantly ignored the clinic full of sick patients near the entrance. It was almost sickening. 

He pretended to know and care about the things he’s been seeing all his life just based on the fact that he was “adopted” into a high profile one that he didn’t even really want anyways. 

It made so much sense now, every single aspect of it. Zayn taking Charlie in with open arms. Zayn hiding from a world that he’s scared to admit he understands too well. 

Or maybe it’s just his impending rut talking and getting fired up about impregnating the everloving  _ shit _ out of his beautiful, curvacious, soon-to-be husband.

“What’s your favorite flower?” He asked Zayn the second they got back home, and swear to any God living up above, he will never forget the answer he got. 

“Does it matter?” Zayn laughed with a fond scoff, rustling the top of Harry’s head as he sighed into the comfort of his own bedroom, as though the day before hadn’t even happened. “Are you going to get me flowers, love?” 

Harry shrugged, “Was thinking about it,” His mind blanked out when Zayn pulled him in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around his waist and securely making sure that if nothing else, Harry’s was  _ his _ and his only. “You don’t like flowers?” He mumbled on his lips.

Zayn laughed, sliding his tongue around to clean up the mess Harry made when asking his shy question. “I would much rather prefer a grilled cheese. Then for you to fuck me senseless, because I think I’ll go into an O-drop if you don’t.” 

Yeah, this was all Harry’s fault, honestly, for all these lovesick grievances his heart’s been enduring the last few months. How the hell did he have the nerve to think that he was a match for this creature? 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I started to genuinely cry while writing this chapter. So many things just hit home. 
> 
> Rut next chapter. Fuckin’ filth. Get excited.   
-j


	12. babies? who said anything about babies?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope all of you are staying safe! I’m finally back, I’m trying to get back into the groove of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **day to night to morning,**   
**keep with me in the moment.**   
**i’d let you had i known it,**   
**why don’t you say so?**   
-doja cat, say so

“Hey, baby. That shirt looks uncomfortable,” Harry said while pulling Zayn’s shirt off in front of everyone. “Wear this one.” 

“But—that’s my favorite pajama shirt,” He complained just as Harry pulled his own large Rolling Stones t-shirt over his head. “And that one was clean.” 

“This one’s clean.” Harry retorted. 

“You wore this last night,” Zayn raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on with you?” 

“You looked uncomfortable, baby,” Harry kissed him and cupped the back of his neck. “It’s in my nature to take care of you.” 

“Yeah, totally not because your rut’s approaching and Zayn being within ten feet of anyone that isn’t you is making every hair on your body stand on end,” Louis snorted, biting his toast. “Alphas.”

Harry sniffled before leaning forward to kiss Zayn’s cheek, then lick a stripe up his neck. 

“Oh my god,” Zayn covered his face, embarrassed by this development. “Hazza, stop it,” but he melted when Harry leaned forward to peck his nose, eyes lowering slowly. 

“Okay, thanks for breakfast, Zaynie,” Louis got up, smiling smugly at them. “Try not to break anything while you’re ploughing our boy into the mattress.” 

“ _ Louis, _ ” Liam admonished, looking at him with wide eyes. “How vulgar.” 

“We have to go get Charlie,” Louis reminded him, coaxing him to part with his whole-grain oatmeal. “Harry looks all sleepy and needs a cuddle.”

“Yeah, I need a cuddle,” Harry echoed to Zayn, who began to run his fingers through his hair lovingly. “Need my tongue on your—.” 

“We’re leaving!” 

* * *

“I can’t believe it’s been over a week,” Louis told Liam, gripping his hand firmly as they walked through the hospital. “And Niall still hasn’t come and seen him.”

“Lou,” Liam whispered slowly, gently pulling him aside. “I didn’t tell you yesterday, but when you were in the restroom his attending pulled me aside and said that Char’s condition wasn’t looking too hot.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?” Louis was unimpressed, “Why didn’t  _ he _ tell  _ me _ ?” 

“Because, well,” Liam rubbed the back of his head, “Because you’re an omega, Lou,” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Louis slapped the side of his head. 

Liam winced, “Sorry. Anyways, he said that he caught the flu after his surgery, and that’s why he hasn’t healed yet.” 

“It’s only been a week, not making a full recovery is normal,” Louis retorted, still a little angry that Liam didn’t say anything sooner. 

“You make a full recovery at home and then you come back in later for a checkup,” Liam explained. “The doctor said he would’ve been cured a little faster if he hadn’t lost his alpha.” 

“Noah was not his alpha,” Louis fumed, crossing his arms. “At least, he wasn’t for a long time.” 

“Nevertheless, it’s harder for someone to heal without their partner,” Liam bent down and kissed Louis’ feathery head of hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s just that we were with Zayn too and you know how emotional he can get.” 

Louis snorted, “Oh yeah, so, so emotional. So emotional you couldn’t even tell me that our friend is dying.” 

“He’s not dying, he’s just,” Liam stammered, “In a rough patch of his healing process.” 

“He didn’t just lose his alpha, Li,” Louis stormed off, looking back to say another thing, “He lost both his alphas.” 

He slid open the door to Charlie’s private suite, about to say hello by the time he whipped his head around. However, the sight of Niall sitting by the bed stopped all thoughts formulating in his head. “What?” 

“H-hi,” Niall leaped from the stool, letting go of Charlie’s hand. The latter was still dozed off peacefully, looking a little better than the day before. “Sorry, I uh,” 

“No no,” Louis waved his hands and motioned for him to sit. “It’s nice to see you, Niall.”

“I’ll leave before he wakes up,” Niall bit his lip when Liam came up behind Louis in the doorway. 

“No no,” Louis repeated as Liam warily handed him a face mask and some hand sanitizer. Niall’s confusion traveled down Louis’ body. 

“Congratulations,” He choked out. 

“Hi, Niall,” Liam greeted calmly, together with Louis walking over to Charlie’s other side. “Don’t be nervous. We’re really glad to see you.” 

Just then, Charlie began to stir, wheezing and gasping weakly as his eyes fluttered open. When he took in his first deep breath, his eyes widened, looking left and right from Louis and Liam to Niall. “Ni?” 

Niall went pale and instinctively bent down to kiss Charlie’s head before rushing out of the room, nearly tripping on air when his lover released a choked sob followed by Louis’ soft cooing. 

* * *

“You know what I think is the most treasurable thing in this entire world?” Zayn asked, letting Harry run his hand up and down his thigh. “C’mon, indulge me.” 

“What is the most treasurable thing in this entire world, baby?” Harry asked, groggily nuzzling his face into Zayn’s neck. 

“Holding hands with the person you love,” Zayn murmured. “Telling them to drive home safe.” 

“Really?” Harry mumbled, mind hazy. “I thought it was letting someone know that they’re home,” 

“Hm,” 

“Like, you’re my home. Like, you’re my dream, the person I want to wake up to,” Harry continued, “Easily the most treasurable, telling someone that they are their entire dream.” 

“Some people’s dreams are different, don’t you think?” Zayn asked, trying to not get lost in the way Harry was licking up his neck. “Some people want to get a big old house and have lots of kids and be able to afford meat every day.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, breathing deeply. “And some people just want to be human.” 

“Hazza, you okay?” Zayn cooed, rubbing his scalp. “You getting sleepy, sweetie?”

“I’m,” Harry closed his eyes. “You smell so good. I just wanna eat you up.” 

“Well, you can’t do that, sweetie,” Zayn laughed, but let Harry paw at his torso nonetheless. “You smell good too, Haz. Are you hungry? You should eat something before you drop.” 

“I want to eat you,” Harry answered matter-of-factly. “I want to eat you.” 

“I’m gonna order some soup,” was Zayn’s response to that, sighing happily when Harry started to nibble at his skin. “I’m so happy to be taking care of you, Haz. You’ve no idea.” 

“I should be taking care of you,” He grunted, taking his shirt off. “I’m hot.” 

Zayn joked, “Yes, yes you are,” He laid Harry down on the couch, petting his hair comfortingly. “You should sleep, m’love.” 

“Sleep in bed,” Harry complained, rolling his scent into the cushions anyways. “Take care of me, ha.” 

Zayn shrugged, “Why not? I’ve done it loads of times before. You’re not my first boyfriend, you know.” 

Harry growled at him, eyes flashing and nose wrinkling in distaste. “No.” 

“Well,” Zayn got up before Harry could grab him. “Race you to the bedroom.” 

He got about halfway up the stairs before he was grabbed around the waist with one arm and yanked up the rest of the way, before he was pushed face first into his mattress. “Okay, not what I meant.” 

He pushed Harry’s deadweight off of him, smiling to himself when he saw the alpha yawning adorably and looking extremely cuddly. “You’re so cute, oh my god,” He pushed Harry’s legs until they were parallel to the bed, shoving the blankets off as well as their socks and his shirt. 

“I’m not cute. Don’t call me cute,” Harry whined, shaking his head at Zayn. “Stop it.” 

“You’re like a pup,” Zayn fawned over him, kissing his eyelids and rubbing behind his ears. “Go to bed, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Harry preened before curling in on himself, chest rising and falling ever so lightly. When he was sure he was asleep, Zayn crept out of the room and back downstairs.

By the time the soup arrived and he had gone through about four episodes of Friends, a loud crash was heard above his head. Zayn jumped up, and looked to the ceiling. “Oh god.” 

“Zayn!” Harry roared, possibly throwing another thing onto the ground. Zayn really hoped it wasn’t his mum’s vase. “Zayn—“

“I’m here, love, go back to bed,” Zayn stopped him at the bottom of the stairs and ordered, a finger pointed back to the room. “Come on, go.” 

Harry huffed and turned around with a hand securely wrapped around his waist. “You lied. You said you’d be there when I woke up.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Zayn laughed softly, jumping into Harry’s arms fully with his legs wrapped around his ribs. “Come on, tiger.” 

“Don’t fucking test me right now,” Harry’s nostrils flared, his hair flopping about as he whipped his head back and forth. “Get on the bed.” 

“Wait, don’t be mad,” Zayn whined, reaching for Harry’s hand and yelping when he was given a push onto his back. “Hazza?” 

Harry whimpered and crawled over him, scenting him the whole way up. “Zaynie,” 

“Yeah, love,” Zayn kissed his head when they met face to face, “You’re so hard.” 

“You wet?” Harry murmured, spreading Zayn’s legs with his own before grinding their hips together. “Fuck,” 

“Yeah, I’m getting wet,” He shut his eyes and let Harry push him into the mattress, circling his hips so much so that Zayn could feel his large knot already expanding against his pelvis. “Baby.”

“Get wet faster,” Harry complained, ripping off Zayn’s pants and sticking his face right in between his legs. “You smell so good.”

“Fuckin’ alphas,” Zayn whacked his head out of embarrassment, crawling away further up the bed as Harry chased him. “Stop smelling me!” 

He got a high whine in response, before he was flipped over and made eye contact with a pair of stormy and gray pupils, looking almost angry with arousal. It only made Zayn leak a little bit more, spiking both of their senses. 

It was generating a fever within him, the way Harry’s hands were now running up and down his entire body as he licked Zayn’s inner thighs and began to nibble his way towards his sex. “Hazza, condom,” 

Harry huffed, annoyed, but listened nevertheless, reaching over to the nightstand and taking out the entire box of H&R condoms. Ripping one open with his teeth, his gaze never left Zayn’s hole, hungrily rolling it upon himself before leaning back down for his feast. 

“Oh my god,” Zayn exclaimed, grabbing fistfuls of Harry’s curls. “Sweetie, come on.” 

“Mm,” Harry disapproved of Zayn ordering him around, so naturally, he promptly rolled him over and shoved his face into the pillow. “Bad omega.” 

“Me? I’m bad?” Zayn squeaked, not even knowing why he was trying to fight with the obviously incoherent boy. “Knot me already.” 

Harry growled and draped his entire back over Zayn’s, pressing their bodies down flat. After successfully trapping Zayn underneath him with his arms coming around to hug his shoulders, Harry began to blindly thrust towards the general area. 

Zayn was not having it. “Oh, come on, you overgrown dog,” He complained, just barely managing to reach back and direct Harry’s thick cock towards his hole, eyes fluttering when he was dicked into the mattress almost instantaneously. 

“What?” Harry growled, rutting fiercely and making the both of them bounce. “What did you call me?” 

“Hazza, I called you Hazza,” Zayn whispered hotly, face turned to the side. “Baby, you’re squishing me.” 

“Squish, squish.” 

“What?”

“I don’t know, shut up,” Harry whined, sweat running off his face almost exceedingly. “Turn over.” 

Zayn reached behind and slapped his arm. “I can’t,” He wriggled against him to prove his point. It was secretly the most pleasing thing in the world when Harry held him flush against his chest and rotated the both of them so that he was curled up beside him, getting roughly thrusted up the bed. “Ah!”

“Your fucking pussy’s so good,” Harry groaned, gnawing at Zayn’s neck. “Shit, so fucking tight and drawing me in. What’re you gonna do, sweetheart? You gonna be good for me?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn nodded desperately, jaw dropping when Harry’s cock began to spear towards his prostate in an almost instinctive, knowing fashion. “Please please please,” 

“Shit, gonna—gonna fucking knot you,” Harry growled, holding Zayn’s arms so tightly his knuckles were turning white. 

Zayn was his. There was no other explanation for why it felt so good to be molded together like this, bodies hitting home over and over again. “You close, baby?”

Harry whimpered, losing the battle over maintaining consciousness. He nodded against Zayn’s neck before burying himself in it, the thickening part of his knot popping in and out of Zayn’s rim. 

“When this is done, I’ll read you a book, okay? And wash your hair,” Zayn comforted, lovingly scratching Harry’s head to prove his promise. “Love you so much, you’re such a good alpha, the best alpha,”

“Yeah,” Harry echoed, looking extremely anxious and panicked as he got closer to his impending orgasm. “You’re so perfect, omega, omega,” 

“Yours,” Zayn corrected, which sealed the deal. Harry let out a growl so guttural Zayn felt it in his stomach, just as he was pressed back face first onto the mattress with Harry mounting him from behind. 

The next few minutes could only be described by Harry’s insane pounding back and forth, pumping himself in and out of Zayn’s arse until his knot caught and wouldn’t let go. The omega screeched and fell limp as Harry bit down on his shoulder. 

The intense pressure just made everything in his body seize and Zayn ended up releasing all over his stomach, panting ferociously with Harry’s hand still gripping tightly on his neck. “Yes, yes,”

“Mine,” growled Harry, still coming into his future mate with one arm wrapped around Zayn’s torso. After a few more minutes, he gently kissed at his omega’s neck and turned them over, so that now they were spooning. “Sorry,” He apologized, like the sweet alpha he was. 

“Don’t be; felt good,” Zayn keened backwards and look in a long breath of Harry’s rut crazed scent, smiling at how his baby was now murmuring unintelligible things right over his mating spot. 

“Can’t wait to bite you right here,” Harry sighed softly, tracing circles over Zayn’s neck and sending shocks of electricity to shoot down his spine. “Make you mine.” 

“Are you feeling a little more coherent, baby?” Zayn asked, reaching back to grab a fistful of Harry’s curls. “Back with me?” 

“Yeah,” Harry’s voice was so soft as he turned Zayn around to face him. “You’re amazing,” 

“You need to nap, baby,” Zayn whispered back, petting the sides of Harry’s face. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

* * *

“Hi again,” Louis started, just as Niall opened the door. “Wait, don’t go,” 

“Lou,” Liam protested as the omega shot up and began to run after him. “Please be careful, love--”

“Come back!” Louis squeaked once he made it to the hall, clutching his stomach. “Niall, wait!” 

“Let him go,” Liam cooed, gently taking hold of his mate’s arm. “It’s alright, he’ll be back.” 

“No,” Louis grunted, shaking him off before heading towards the elevator to stop the doors, “Listen, you fearful twat,” 

Everyone in the elevator gasped as he wrenched the doors open, several people reaching out to reflexibly help when they saw his current state. “L--Louis!” Niall exclaimed, eyes wide open in shock. “Oh god,” 

“Lou!” Liam barked, “Get back here!” 

“Alright, I’ll come, please,” Niall walked out with his hands up, looking up at Liam as he grabbed Louis. “I don’t want any more trouble.” 

“We’re not gonna kill you, mate,” Liam sighed, planting his face into Louis’ hair. “We just need to talk to you.” 

Everyone was staring at them, the whimpering omega struggling in an alpha’s arms while the other looked like he was going to shit himself. Looks like trying to not make a scene was already out the window. “Come on, man. He’s been waiting for you.” 

By the time they all walked back to Charlie’s room, he was awake, softly crying while a nurse shushed him, humming to him while she wiped a wet cloth over his face. “Char?”

The nurse jumped in surprise, then smiled at the sight of Niall with a knowing look on her face. “So this is the potato you speak of,” She said in a thick foreign accent, letting go of the rag into a bowl of water before exiting. 

“Potato,” Charlie repeated weakly, squeezing her hand. “That’s a bad translation. You mean angel.” 

“Hi, Char,” Niall croaked, taking off his coat before immediately coming over to his side. “I’m--I’m so sorry, love, I really didn’t mean to…” Hks words trailed off when his throat clenched, sobbing softly over his lover’s state. 

“We’ll leave you two alone.” Louis sighed, letting Liam grip his hand fiercely as they left the room quietly. 

“Hi, angel.” Charlie smiled, “I’m sorry.” 

“Why on earth are you sorry?” Niall asked softly, clutching his hand and leaning close. His face said it all: Charlie looked like he was dying. 

“I lost it,” Charlie began to sob, reaching for his neck with his other hand. “I’m so sorry, they tried finding it but I think someone just took it from my things, I’m so sorry.” 

“Hey,” Niall sighed, “It’s okay, love, that’s alright. I’ll get you another one.” 

Charlie’s face just crumpled. “Why?”

“What d’you mean ‘why’?” Niall asked, biting his lower lip. 

“Why bother?” Charlie looked down. “I’m from the ghetto, your parents certainly don’t like me.”

“Is that what that was about?” Niall closed his eyes. “When you left?”

“No,” His response sounded wet. “But I’m also dying, so all in all it does seem like a complete waste of money.”

“You’re not dying,” Niall groaned, “You’re just--you’re just taking a little bit longer to get better than usual.”

“I didn’t love him, Ni, I swear. It’s not what you think. I’m not mourning; I’m not refusing to let myself get better, I swear. I wanted him dead, I wanted it all to be over--”

“Shh,” Niall choked out, “I don’t like hearing such ugly words come out from your lips. I know it’s not because of that. I know.”

“My body’s weak. How am I supposed to give you strong kids?” Charlie whimpered, clutching the sheets. “How am I supposed to make you happy?”

“When was it ever yours to decide my happiness? This is the happiest I’ve felt in weeks, actually. Granted, it’s following the lowest point in my life, but still, it’s the happiest I’ve felt. No one makes me feel things like you do.”

“Have you ever heard that term,” Charlie started, “The one that goes like, “Some girls you marry, some you love?” 

“Yeah?”

Charlie kissed his hand. “I don’t think I’m the former.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Babe, look at your life. Look at the parties and the ballet and…” Charlie laughed just a little, to spite himself. “The parents, the brother, the meaning. You’ve got it all. I don’t want to be seen as your little charity case, and if not that, I don’t want to bring you down.”

“You’d never bring me down,” Niall growled exasperatedly. “How many times do I have to tell you until you get that?”

“I was pregnant, Ni,” Charlie finally came out with it. “And I lost it. That’s why I left.”

Niall’s face went completely still, and so did his chest with his eyes widening. “What?”

The air in the room suddenly became quiet, not even the hum from the humidifier could be heard through the wrenching feeling in Charlie’s ears. “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Niall looked and sounded utterly betrayed, gently letting go of Charlie’s hand. “Why--why would you even keep that from me in the first place?”

“I was waiting for the right time to tell you,” Charlie pleaded, “But then I couldn’t and...and I’m sorry, alright?”

“Char,” Niall shook his head before hanging it in his hands. “I can’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie let out a gasp when Niall stood up, the panic settling in deep into his heart. “Wait, don’t go.” 

Niall, with his back turned towards him, replied, “Isn’t that what you’ve been wanting this entire time, though? For me to piss off?” He walked away towards the door, briefly stunned by the sound of the heart monitor picking up behind him. “Well, you got your wish, Charlie Axton. Get well soon.”

“Niall, wait!” Charlie sat up, despite all the protests resounding in his lungs and muscles, then turned sideways to get out of bed in a futile attempt to chase after him. He was promptly stopped by Liam, who shook his head kindly and thumbed at his omega spot until he crumpled back onto the bed. 

“He’ll come back, Char,” Louis tried to comfort him, crawling into his bed to hold his body from shaking. However, all three of them knew the truth; Niall was not coming back. “It’s okay, baby, I have you.” 

* * *

Zayn woke up to Harry on top of him, grinding down so hard that the entire bed was rocking like a boat. “Oh, Harry!” 

“Please,” Harry whined roughly, moving so he could rip the thin blanket off of Zayn and hungrily tear at his clothes. “Spread your legs.” 

“Okay, okay,” Zayn, flustered, just had to let him do what he needed, interlocking their hands as Harry lifted his thighs onto his own. “Hazza, baby, can you turn me over, please?” He stroked the side of his face, gently coaxing him as they blinked back and forth. “And get a condom?”

“Mm,” Harry protested like a child, eyes black and his hands gripping Zayn tightly. “Wanna see your face,”

“My back hurts, love,” Zayn ran his hair out of his face so that Harry’s eyes fluttered slightly from how good it felt to be touched. “Unless you wanna prop me up on a pillow?”

“Okay,” Harry pouted, doing as told, including the condom. “Love you.”

“Love you too, baby,” Zayn smiled warmly, followed by a gasp when Harry suddenly pushed in and flopped on top of him. “Jesus, could’ve given me a warning.” 

He could feel every thrust in his throat, getting shoved up the bed at least half a foot each time. Harry was sweaty and all man, his skin sticky against Zayn’s as they held hands and kissed while tangled in the bedsheets. He could feel it pooling in his stomach, rising and falling from the tops of his fingers to the bottom of his toes, gaining momentum when Harry propped himself up and went harder. 

“Hazza, please,” Zayn went to touch himself, but was again slapped away by Harry’s hand, also receiving a growl and a firm grip on the back of his neck in the process. “Please, need to come.” 

“Come on my cock,” Harry hissed, wrenching Zayn’s leg up as he shoved the bedsheets away, panting and grunting like a wild animal with a crazed look in his eyes. “Shit, baby.”

“Yeah, baby, want it.” Zayn rubbed at Harry’s sides and lower back, biting his future mate’s top lip as he rabbited them closer to their peak. “Come on, Hazza.”

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, shutting his eyes before leaning down to hold onto Zayn neck with his teeth, ploughing roughly until his knot caught on the edge of Zayn’s hole and was trapped there. He growled a few more times as Zayn cried through it, clenching around Harry and squirming until he felt so exhausted all he could do was go limp and let Harry just  _ take _ him. 

“Can’t wait to--to make you mine, Haza,” Zayn rasped, watching Harry suck on one of his fingers. “God, you’re just so perfect.”

“Mm,” Harry whined, “Give me kisses.” 

“Alright, alright,” Zayn sighed, puckering his lips for dramatic effect. “I’ll give you kisses.” 

Right as his eyes closed and Harry was on him, practically devouring his face and mouth, a loud sound downstairs made the both of them freeze. 

Zayn pulled away with a noticeable smacking sound, “What was that?”

“I dunno, your parents home or somethin’?” Harry murmured, trying to bite Zayn’s tongue. 

“Harry, you do realize we’re in  _ your _ house, right?” Zayn put a hand on his chest before his eyes blew wide, “Is it your grandma coming home?” 

Harry seemed completely sober now, “Oh shit,” 

“Oh shit? That’s all you have to say? She’s never even,” Zayn smacked Harry’s chest and scrambled out of bed to grab his clothes. “Met me, you twit!” 

“Twit? What does that mean?” Harry yowled when a pillow was thrown at his head. “Baby, calm down, it’s not a big deal!” 

“Yes it is, Harry!” Zayn wailed, trying to fix his hair in the mirror. “You’re so...god!” 

“I’m so what?” Harry’s Manhattan accent was starting to really come out, fueled by his feelings of betrayal and hurt. It was really cute, actually. “Zaynie, tell me!” 

“Harry?” An elegant, female, and echoing voice thundered from the bottom floor. “My darling?” 

“Oh god,” Zayn sobbed, crumbling onto the floor. “It’s over. My life is over.” 

“Harry, darling, are you in there?” 

“Wait, grandma,” Harry struggled to get the words out as he made the bed and pulled on a pair of trackies. “Hi,”

“Hello, are you in rut?” Harry’s grandmother blinked at him, looking almost ethereal. “Oh, hello there, Zayn.” 

“H—hi,” He choked out, hands behind his back. “Hello,” She knew his  _ name _ ! 

“If you’re wondering how I know, I was already aware of how Harry’s mother has already bought you for him,” 

“Grandma,” Harry groaned,

“I was initially against it, considering the barbarous slander we are under every day as it is,” She continued, “But it seems that it has worked out alright. You may call me Gran.”

“I’m Zayn,” Zayn bit his lip, cheeks red. “Thank you.”

“How was your trip?” Harry rubbed his hands over his eyes. 

“Well, I was informed this morning that Mr. Talbot was planning to make lemon and poppy seed cake for tea this afternoon, but I’m assuming he cleared out miles before you trashed my drawing room and destroyed my Song vase,” She quipped at him, and Zayn almost snorted. “After you two have cleaned up, I expect you both downstairs.”

“Alright, grandma,” Harry sighed, flattening his hair exasperatedly. “I’m sorry about your vase.” 

She laughed, “It’s okay, darling, I’m sure you will find an excellent replacement for the drawing room. I’m relying on your creativity here.” She left, gracefully walking down the steps as Harry walked over to hold Zayn up. 

“She likes me?” He asked meekly, and Harry nodded. “At least you didn’t ravish me on the coffee table,” Zayn phewed when Harry choked. “She still takes tea instead of lunch?” 

“Yeah,” Harry kissed his nose. “It drives me insane, I’ll gain weight if I have cake every day.” 

“Aw,” Zayn cooed, smiling to himself as Harry carried him to the bathroom. 

Then they were in the bath, with Zayn on Harry’s lap as he rubbed suds through his head. “Gorgeous, I wish I had this hair,” 

“I want your hair,” Zayn craned his neck around to smile at Harry before turning back around and leaning on his chest. “Are you feeling better?”

“I am, thank you baby,” Harry practically purred, softly kissing the back of his neck. “By the way, she’s probably gonna ask about kids.” 

“Kids?!” 

“Like, when we’re having them.” 

“Hazza,” Zayn turned around with a splash of water falling from the tub. “We aren’t even mated yet.” 

“I know, I know, everyone just wants kids,” Harry laughed, pulling Zayn back. 

“Everyone? Who’s everyone?” Zayn pulled away again. 

Harry sheepishly gave him an uncertain smile, “Oh, I dunno, like my parents and stuff.” 

“Huh?” Zayn’s eyes fluttered before his expression fell. “Kids?” 

Harry shook his hands and head, “No no, baby, don't get stressed out about it. It’s no big deal.” 

“It  _ is _ a big deal,” Zayn covered his face, “Should we? Have kids?” 

“Babe, it’s like you said, we aren’t even mated yet,” Harry kissed the worry lines around Zayn’s eyes in an attempt to make them go away. 

“But—should we be mated? It’s been over a year, I know couples who’ve gotten together after a few weeks!” Zayn squeaked. “Isn’t your family gonna think I’m like infertile or something?” 

Harry snorted, “Who cares?” 

Zayn stood up and got out of the tub. 

“Babe,” Harry pleaded, “Wait, wait.” 

“Your gran is waiting,” Zayn hurriedly slipped on one of Harry’s shirts and tied a pair of joggers extremely tight around his waist. “Come on.”

“Love,” Harry tried, which did make the side of Zayn’s eye twitch, but not enough to deter him from blasting downstairs. “Oh, fuck. Zaynie!” 

“Hello, Mrs. Styles,” Zayn gulped and gingerly padded over to the parlor table. “How was...how was your trip?”

Gertrude, preferably known as Gert, smiled as she set down her tea. “Hello, Zayn. It was uneventful, which can only be seen as a blessing in my own age.” She beckoned him over. 

“Ah, I see.” He sat down across from her and accepted when she poured him a cup of tea. “Thank you.”

“Harry always takes extra time to do his hair, doesn’t he?” Gert hummed, fondly watching Zayn most perfectly stirring his tea with sugar, gently pouring in a dash of cream, and setting the spoon aside on the napkin like a doll. “Goodness, you are well bred indeed.”

“Sorry?” 

She shook her head, “I’m just so glad it’s all worked out. Our family has always been very fond of the Maliks, and I’m ecstatic to welcome you into our family.”

“Thank you,” Zayn stuttered. 

“So excited to have children running around the house again,” She commented casually, and Zayn coughed. “How many do you think you’ll have?” 

“Erm,” Zayn laughed weakly. “Not too sure, uh, we haven’t really talked about that, yet.” 

“Oh? A working omega, then? What is your trade, darling?” Gert smiled at him, effervescently digging her fork into a cake. “Music? Science? History?” 

“Literature, so far,” Zayn gulped, because that was a total lie. “I’m currently working on my first novel.” No, he was not. 

“How brilliant,” Gert mused. “I’ll buy ten copies when it comes out.” 

Zayn shuddered, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“I thought I told you to call me gran,” 

“Ah, yes. Thank you, gran.” Zayn laughed nervously. “Maybe three kids.” 

She leaned forward and pinched his cheek. “You’re my favorite. I heard that you recently had your first kidnapping scare.” 

“Mm,” Zayn nodded. “It was quite a scare.” 

“Trust me, darling, I know,” Gert made him a plate of sweets. “To be quite honest, I was very impressed with how you handled it. Quieted it down and took care of your own people. Those are qualities I don’t overlook.” 

“Thank you, gran,” Zayn smiled. “That truly means a lot.” 

“This mating will do so many good things for the both of our families, but I’m sure you already knew that,” 

“I’d been forgetting it lately, actually.” 

“I’m assuming you’ll quit school at this point?” Gert asked, but it was in a manner that suggested that there was a right answer. 

Zayn shrugged, “It’s hard to say. It’s all been up in the air lately.” 

“Ah,” She set down her tea. “I see.” 

Before the atmosphere could get any weirder, Harry burst out of his room and ran down the stairs with his hair most perfectly fluffed and styled. “Hi,”

“Hi,” Gert said in an expectant tone. “How rude, darling, you’ve left poor Zayn to fend for himself. He’s been shaking for the last twenty minutes.” 

“Hi,” Zayn’s eyes widened at Harry, who walked over and plopped down next to him. “We’ve just been...yeah.”

“He speculates you’ll have at least three kids,” Gert happily said. “Oh, how wonderful. So satisfying when things go the way they’re supposed to. And he’s promised to let me buy ten of his novel when it comes out.” 

“Did he now?” Harry smiled, looking at Zayn with his head cocked to the side. “Did he also promise to sign each one.” 

“Well, of course,” Zayn winked at him warningly, pressing down on Harry’s foot with his own. “Have some cake, love.” 

“Mm, yummy, cake,” Harry struggled not to laugh. 

“Harry, dear, are you alright?” 

“Fine, grandma. Absolutely perfect, actually.” 

* * *

  
“You know, if you want to sex him up, all you have to do is wake him up in the middle of the night and say you want a baby.” 

“If you’re wrong, Lou, I swear to god I will convince Liam to name your child something stupid.” 


End file.
